


How Far Will You Go (to protect those you love?)

by ClandestineCat



Category: Star Wars, The Mandalorian
Genre: Episode Four gave me feels, F/M, I love cats and had to stick one in somehow, I love this ship, Injured Mando, I’m sorry in advance, Loth-Cat, Padawan/Foundling/I don’t even know anymore, Use of Mando’a, Worried Mando, Worried Omera, bounty hunters are back, or rather Loth-Kit, protecc Mando
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-04
Updated: 2020-04-07
Packaged: 2021-03-03 16:28:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 61,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21665617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClandestineCat/pseuds/ClandestineCat
Summary: We all see the Mandalorian and Baby Yoda ride away at the end of Chapter Four... But what if something were to happen right after the episode ends? How far will the Mandalorian go to protect the ones he loves?With the looming threat of other trackers and bounty hunters, Baby Yoda and the village farmers are going to need all of the protection they can get. Is the Mandalorian up for the job?Join the Mandalorian and Omera as they discover how far their love for each other truly reaches; and learn how far they’ll go to protect one another.
Relationships: The Mandalorian & Baby Yoda, The Mandalorian & Cara Dune, The Mandalorian & Winta, The Mandalorian/Omera (The Mandalorian TV)
Comments: 90
Kudos: 208





	1. The Bounty

**Author's Note:**

> So, I’m sort of terrified to upload this, as I’ve literally never written something for another person before outside of school, and schoolwork is never this personal... I absolutely loved episode four, and have watched it so many times! I found myself daydreaming over the weekend and, well, this was it. Idk if anyone else has such vivid daydreams, but it can be cool (if not distracting in class). I have read so many amazing fics from so many amazing authors already, and they always cheer me up so much! Those authors gave me the courage to attempt to write something of my own, and I hope I can cheer people up as well! Please let me know what you think, and please correct any errors I may have made. I love Star Wars, but I’m no expert. I don’t know if I’ll attempt to write anything else, I guess it depends on what people think! I hope y’all enjoy!

  
Dyn Jarren gazed across the crowd of waving villagers as the wagon slowly made its way towards the edge of the woods. He was still close enough to make out some of the faces clearly, yet he was already feeling a longing ache in his chest at the thought of leaving them. Of separating the Child and Winta. Of leaving Omera.

_No_.

He mustn’t think like that. He couldn’t stay here. It was no longer the Way. He tilted his head and glanced down as the Child cooed softly, and watched as it raised claw-like fingers to wave at its newest friends. He felt a pang in his chest, but quickly cast it aside. He was a bounty hunter. He was _Mandalorian_. There was no room in him for weakness; weakness oftentimes meant death. 

They were much closer to the trees now, and he felt his gaze drift towards the concealing shadows of the trunks. He tensed as he thought he saw a sharp movement catch his eye... in that moment, a small device flew in a graceful arc, landing on the opposite side of the wagon, amidst his supplies. He barely had a moment to comprehend the blinking read light, and sharp chirps coming from it before he had grabbed his pulse rifle and the Child, and rolled off the moving vehicle. He scrambled to his feet and tried to run as a sudden blast threw him forward.

As he landed, he quickly shoved the Child towards a hollow underneath a small fallen tree, concealed by the tall grass. “Go. _Go!_”

Grabbing the pulse rifle and his sidearm blaster, he leapt up and rounded on his new attackers, naturally taking up a defensive stance as if by second nature. For a Mandalorian, it practically was. Dyn felt his breath momentarily catch in his throat as Greef Karga, the leader of the guild, stepped out from the tree line, accompanied by some other bounty hunters he had previously seen around their old bar headquarters.

“Aw, Mando. I was getting a bit worried we wouldn’t be seeing each other again. I suppose it’s lucky we heard of some commotion down here. Sargon is usually quite the peaceful place after all.” Greef took another step forward as four bounty hunters began to surround Dyn. “This is quite the nice little farming community you’ve found. What is it... krill, maybe? It’d be a shame to see it go, don’t you think Mando?”

“Leave them out of this.” He hoped the strain in his voice didn’t carry through the helmet; he had a sinking feeling it did. He desperately wanted to turn and look to the villagers, see if they were safe, but he couldn’t, _wouldn’t_, take his eyes off Greef. He was the immediate threat.

“Well, I’m not the one who brought them into it Mando. Simply making a statement. Strange to see you so worked up over it though... you’re a _bounty hunter_ Mando. You ruthlessly capture and kill for a living. You have shown no love before... you only cared for getting the job done quickly and efficiently. I must admit, you were my favorite... but that all seemed to change after the latest Asset.” Dyn warily watched the bounty hunters out of the corner of his eye, preparing himself for any sign of an attack as Greef continued. He doubted they would though; Greef would want to wait until his monologue was over with. He had a certain flare for dramatics, it seemed.

“Speak of the devil, where is the asset? If you just hand him over, all will be forgiven.”

“How are you alive?” Dyn chose to demand instead, as he distinctly remembered shooting him in the heart with his blaster...

“Ah ah ah! I believe I asked my question first.”

“I’m not answering.”

“Then I shall not either. It is a shame, my dear Mando. You really _were_ my favorite... Now, I believe a certain client filled me in on a particular conversation...” Greef stated as he gestured to the bounty hunters surrounding the Mandalorian. “I believe it was said to go, ‘we have you four to one’ if I remember correctly.”

“And I believe I said I like those odds.” As soon as he finished speaking, Greef gave a satisfied nod.

“Then let the games commence.” All at once, the four bounty hunters charged as Greef took a few precautionary steps away from the fight. Dyn quickly spun out of the way of one of the attackers, simultaneously kicking a second in the stomach, and blocking an attack from the third’s staff with his pulse rifle. There was a aching blow to his left arm as the fourth hunter’s strike connected to the unarmored lower arm, and he felt himself wince. That would surely leave a bruise.

Twisting to dodge another blow from the third’s staff, Dyn’s eyes landed on the crowd of villagers behind him. _Skanah!_ There were more bounty hunters than he’d thought. Two more were keeping Cara Dune on her toes, one was fighting Omera who was fiercely protecting the children, and two more were aiming blasters to the crowd, as if daring someone to move. Dyn felt a sharp blow to the back of his head, having hesitated to long. Ducking down, he swiped the legs out from under hunter Two, and swiftly shot him in the head with his blaster. One down, three to go. Unfortunately, these were no measly stormtroopers. As much as Dyn hated to admit it, they were experienced bounty hunters, and therefore very formidable in a fight, especially three to one. 

As number Three rose his staff for another blow, Dyn caught Four raising a blaster, and One aiming a swipe at his legs. Elbowing One in the face, Dyn turned so that the staff glanced off his armour for minimal damage (although it still hurt when the end caught his arm) and walloped Four in the head with his pulse rifle, effectively knocking him cold. Unfortunately, he was unprepared for the blow to his shoulder when another attacker came from seemingly nowhere. 

So a fifth one. He could deal with this. He could.

As he tried to regain his balance, Three swiped his legs with the staff, sending him into an unruly heap on the ground. Quickly scuttling backwards away from the advancing attackers, and held out his arm for the flamethrower. 

For a glorious moment, it worked. Then, a sudden blast and sharp pain to his wrist, and the flame went out. Turning his head to the side, he saw Greef aiming a blaster at him.

“Ah ah ah, lets not end the fun so soon. Not till you give me the package.” Greef motioned for the hunters to continue.

Dyn lifted his arms, desperately trying to protect himself from the blows raining down on him from their staffs and the butts of their rifles. His struggles were to no avail, as he had no way to defend himself. He had dropped his blaster with the hit, and his pulse rifle was lying on the ground just out of reach. Fearing for the worst, he tried to find a way, any way, to get out of this mess. That was when he heard it.

“_No!_” He heard rapid footsteps, and a loud clang as something hard slammed into the side of Three’s helmet. The attacks from Four and Five were cut short as they turned toward their new foe. Taking his arms from his head, Dyn looked up to see Omera being held back at gunpoint by another hunter, a large branch fallen by her feet and presumably used to whack Three.

Six now? How many are there?! That doesn’t even count the five with the villagers!

A quick glance around showed the villagers were okay, and the hunter Omera had been fighting was lying motionless on the ground. However, Cara Dune seemed to be unable to attack as the villagers were being held at gunpoint. He assumed she had been warned against moving, or else the villagers would pay. There was no other logical reason for her refraining from the fight, especially after he saw the murderous glint in her eyes. With his assessment complete, Dyn turned his eyes back toward Omera just as Greef began to speak.

“My, my! Well look what we have here... Such bravery to run to the defense of such a man... Why, one might even say you would have to _love_ him to do such a thing...” Dyn stared at Omera through his visor, trying not to let his heart stutter at the thought of her loving him. He wanted to send her strength, but didn’t know how other than a silent, steady gaze. He hoped it helped. His mind kept leaping back to the thought of her loving him though... he knew they had shared some heartfelt moments, (and oh how he had _hoped_) but how could she love _him?_

Greef was quick to voice his thoughts. “Why, how can this be? Surely no one is foolish enough to love our Mando, certainly not a pretty young lady such as yourself... Why, a farmer falling for the cold-hearted, orphaned bounty hunter... killing is in his blood! He’s heartlessly handed over many to fates worse than death, or even slaughtered them himself... why, he even took the bounty for a _child_.” Greef stood in thoughtful silence as the bounty hunters huffed out laughter around them. Dyn and Omera continued their silent staring contest, Dyn still lying on his back on the ground, afraid for Omera’s sake to make a sudden movement. Who knew what the hunter’s would do.

“Now, I must say, I’m quite curious... are these feelings... reciprocated?” Dyn thought he felt his heart stop at the comment, and nearly missed the slight widening of Omera’s eyes. He took a second to ponder what it meant before tuning back in. “Alright my dear Mando, here’s your rules. You reach for a gun, she dies. You make a sudden movement, she dies. You try using that flamethrower, or whistling birds, or whatever the heck else you have in that fancy costume, well, I think you get it.”

In truth, he didn’t have any whistling birds left, but there was no need to tell them that. “Alright Mando, stand up now. Let’s see how much our Mandalorian has _really_ learned to love...”

Dyn had a split second to register the look of shock and horror that flitted across Omera’s face before the first blow fell, harsh and heavy on his right shoulder. Then the next, to his stomach. Then his lower back. He bit back cries of pain, and forced himself to stand as straight as he could, whilst doubling over in pain. He heard a few shouts and cries from the villagers, unprepared for the brutality of the bounty hunters. Dyn struggled to stay standing as he heard Omera begin to yell out, begging for them to stop. He longed to go to her, comfort her, but he couldn’t. Not unless he wanted her to be shot before he reached her.

  
Omera was horrified by the sight before her. She could feel the tears streaming down her face as she thrashed in her captor’s hold, and screamed for them to stop. She knew she must look like a madwoman, and should calm down before she frightened Winta and the other onlooking children, but she couldn’t. Not while the Mandalorian was being beaten down before her very eyes. Not while the seemingly unbreakable warrior’s legs trembled and threatened to give out beneath him. Not while he continued to gaze unwaveringly at her through that helmet visor, providing her with a sense of strength and security she hadn’t felt in a long time, all while being beaten in front of her. Not when it was all for her sake.

She turned her head to the side in hopes that Cara Dune would be able to assist, but dread filled her when she saw the bounty hunters prepared to shoot into the crowd. By the furious look on Cara’s face, she knew she wanted to help more than anything. It was hard to keep track of the emotions at war across her face, the hatred and desire to leap into battle with the Mandalorian flitting amongst her obvious unwillingness to abandon the villagers. If she moved, the hunters would shoot into the crowd. When the Mandalorian fell, Omera had experienced a brief moment of shock before she managed to slam a branch into the head of her attacker with seemingly superhuman strength, and had used the same tactic on one of the hunters surrounding the Mandalorian. Unfortunately, Dune would not be able to accomplish the same feat. She had managed to take down one of her own assailants, but there were still three bounty hunters aiming into the crowd. There would be no way for her to prevent casualties if she were to make a move. There was no way for her to help the Mandalorian in need.

For some strange reason, this caused Omera’s mind to go back to the strange man’s words. _Are these feelings... reciprocated?_

Could the Mandalorian really feel the same way? He couldn’t, could he? Sure there had been moments she thought there was a connection, when she felt a particularly strong bond between the two. Sure she had longed... but she couldn’t let herself hope. Not when he could leave at any moment, not when he _did_ leave. But maybe....

Now she would possibly never know. Not even a Mandalorian could stand up to such a brutal beating for so long. Finally breaking eye contact, she turned to face the man who seemed to lead the rest. “Stop! _Please_...”

She watched as the man slowly smiled, and turned back towards the scene. “You heard the woman, let’s stop now.” Omera’s breath caught in her throat with shock and hope. The man strode over to where the Mandalorian was now doubled over in pain, though only his posture let it show. “Well Mando, it seems your admirer wishes for you to have another chance. Where is the package?”

Omera’s breath caught in her throat. She knew he would never give up his Child, - _his_ Child, as she refused to believe he didn’t think of it that way - not while he was alive. She knew that no matter how much he pretended otherwise, he did love that child. Even if he tried to hide it from her. Even if he tried to hide it from the rest of the village. Even as he tried to hide it from _himself_. 

The Mandalorian straightened his back, and stared defiantly back at the man through the visor. If he was in any pain (which she knew he must be), he refused to show it in his posture.

“No.” The slightly modulated voice came out from the helmet a little more strained then last time, and she knew he was struggling. She knew he was steeling himself, preparing for the bad reaction that was sure to come.

The man smiled, and Omera felt fear. A chill ran down her spine as he spoke. His voice was cheerful, but his gaze was dark with anger as his hand slowly made its way to his belt; she would bet almost anything that the Mandalorian was tracking the movements from behind the helmet, and she knew she was right when the slight rise and fall of his shoulders betrayed his rapid breaths.

“Very well then. If that is what you wish.” The man pulled out a dagger, and before anyone else could react, he plunged it into the Mandalorian’s side. She heard a grunt of pain as he doubled over once more and clutched at his side, the first vocalized sign of injury he had given throughout the entire fiasco he had endured. The man nodded to the bounty hunters surrounding the Mandalorian, and they continued their previous harsh treatment of her beloved. She could no longer deny that she had feelings for him, and she knew no one else could either, not after her reaction the first time. 

She was about to resume her hysteric pleading when she heard a sharp whistle to her left, so fleeting she wondered if she had imagined it. She glanced around to see Cara Dune intensely staring at her. She had inched away from the crowd, to a slightly more secluded spot a few yards away from the villagers, as the bounty hunters became distracted by the ‘show’ before them.

When she noticed Omera looking, Cara mimed shooting a gun to the sky, pointed at Omera, and then drew a line across her own throat.

_Of course_. Play dead! If she was presumed dead, the man wouldn’t be able to hold her life above the Mandalorian. If she were presumed dead, the Mandalorian could protect himself. She almost let out a crazed laugh at the thought, but another pained grunt pulled her thoughts back the the task at hand. Giving a sharp nod to show her understanding, Omera turned back to the incongruous sight before her. The Mandalorian was now on his knees, bent over with one hand on his stomach where the knife’s hilt still protruded, and another lifted over his helmet in a weak attempt to guard his head.

There was no need for her to fake her strangled cry as she began to struggle in the grip of the bounty hunter holding her. She needed a reason to be shot after all... She wrenched one arm free, and elbowed him in the stomach as hard as she could. She allowed herself a moment’s satisfaction as she heard a pained gasp from behind, before the gun was shoved harder against her head. The bounty hunter garbled something in what she assumed was another language, but it sounded like gibberish to her.

“You will not.”Said the leader-man as he turned towards them. With an angry glare, he turned back towards the Mandalorian. Omera continued to struggle.... and then a singular, sharp shot rang out behind her. She immediately froze, then collapsed to the ground, eyes shut tight. All movementseemed to cease for a moment as everyone stood in shock, before the strangled cry of a small girl called out, “_MOMMA!_”

Omera winced internally. _I’m sorry my darling, stay strong._ She hated to put Winta in this position, but she had no other way.

“You FOOL!” The leader-man sounded furious. “I told you not to! What have you done?” Another shot sounded, and a body collapsed to the ground behind her. Omera didn’t move a muscle, for fear she would give herself away. For fear she would ruin the plan.

_It’s all up to you now..._

Dyn started at Omera’s lifeless body for a few moments in silent shock. He barely registered Greef Carga’s voice, and the shot that took the life of Omera’s captor. Omera’s killer. He had a split second to wish he had been the hand behind the gun that killed the hunter before his mind caught up to what his eyes were seeing. 

“No.” The first came out as barely a breath, the two closest bounty hunters turning uncertainly toward him. “**NO!**” 

Struggling to his feet, Dyn quickly picked up his pulse rifle and turned towards Greef, who was looking considerably more unsettled. The thought of Omera’s lifeless body on the ground caused something inside of him to snap. His next words came out strangely calm and emotionless, yet so very cold.

“You just made a big mistake.” 

He saw the moment Greef’s eyes filled with fear as he turned and fled back towards the woods, but ignored it in favor of the task at hand. Hurt _everyone_. Swinging his pulse rifle in a wide arc, he slammed it into the head of the closest hunter, knocking him out cold before plunging the sharp end of the rifle into his chest. The pain in his side flared and his body screamed at the motion, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. Spinning around, he slammed the butt of his rifle into the head of another, and kicked the last in the stomach, quickly scooping up his fallen blaster and shooting them both. 

Turning, he scanned the area to see most of the other hunters sprinting away, unwilling to face the wrath of a furious Mandalorian. The ones not running were busy being beaten up by Cara Dune. He felt a bit of humorless satisfaction that they would get what they deserved as he swung his rifle up to his shoulder and took aim. 

One. Two. Three bounty hunters had fallen at his hand before he could see no more. He didn’t have any clue how many there were originally, and he knew for a fact Greef was long gone. He watched as Cara took out her last hunter and looked up at him. He nodded his appreciation as he felt his body give up to the exhaustion, adrenaline draining away. His injuries came back at him ten-fold, and it was all he could do to stay upright as he struggled to Omera’s body. He collapsed onto his back by her side, careful as to not land on the hilt of the dagger still protruding from his body. He knew he should do something about it, but his mind was too foggy to think properly. As he lay there with his arms splayed out beside him and his knees bent to accommodate the instinctual need to curl up in a ball around the pain in his stomach, (he was to exhausted to do so fully) he listened to the sound of his own ragged breaths through the helmet and tired not to think about the one thing on his mind. _Omera_.

Omera held still as Winta cried out for her mother. She refused to move when she heard the broken cry of the man she loved, the sudden shouted _No_ echoing in her ears. If she hadn’t already been so still, her body would have frozen at the tone of his voice as he declared her death a mistake. His voice was emotionless and calm, yet cold as ice. It was the voice of a broken man with nothing left to lose, the sound of a warrior bent on the need to avenge a great loss. Her heart cried out at the sound of that voice, so familiar yet completely foreign to her in that moment. 

She continued to be still as a fight rang out around her, and she held her eyes closed even as she yearned to know who was winning. Was that thud the sound of one of the other bounty hunters hitting the ground? Or was it the sound of her defeated lover, collapsing from a shot?

She waited, even after all was quiet, for fear that the footsteps coming toward her were that of an enemy. She heard ragged breaths, and a body fell to the ground beside her. She took a moment to calm herself before slowly opening her eyes, looking through her eyelashes just in case. 

She found that the legs she saw in front of her covered by leather pants and shining armor belonged to no stranger. She knew that outfit anywhere. Opening her eyes the rest of the way, she sat up and stared at the body on the ground, gashes in the clothing where no armor protected him, and a dagger sticking out from his stomach. For a heart-stopping moment, she thought he was dead. Then she registered the harsh rising and falling of his chest, and heard the ragged breaths coming through the helmet. 

She immediately leaned over him, tears filling her eyes and hands fluttering around his armored chest, wanting to help but not knowing how.

“I’m sorry. I’m so _so sorry._” Omera choked out as she looked at the visor where his eyes would be. She heard the sharp intake of breath and saw his body freeze. “I’m so sorry, this was all my fault, I shouldn’t have interfered-”

She was cut off as a gloved hand ever so slowly reached up to cup her cheek, oh so gently. He held it there, still not breathing as if he were afraid if he moved the slightest bit she would disappear. When he finally spoke, his words were choked with emotion, so so different from the earlier coldness.

“You’re _okay_.” 

His voice cracked heavily, but he said it again more clearly. “_You’re okay._”

Omera gave a small, sad smile, and choked back a laugh at the thought that this, this was how they ended up showing their feelings for one another. Of all the ways... choosing not to think about that, Omera leaned down and hugged him gently, feeling his arms curl lightly around her body.

A small chirrup to the side broke them out of their trance. Omera sat back again, the Mandalorian’s arms dropping back to the ground beside him. She watched as his helmeted head turned to take in the concerned look of the small Child. 

“An jahaala ad’ika.” He said, and the Child gave him an unimpressed look, which she hadn’t actually thought was possible for the Child. The Child gave another chirp before toddling over to the Mandalorian and practically face planting into the crook of his neck. The Mandalorian gently rose his hand and place it on the Child’s back.

A sudden weight threw itself on Omera’s back, and she turned to give her own child a hug. The rest of the village gathered around, most still with shocked looks on their faces, as if they couldn’t believe that everything had just happened. Omera could sense the agitation of the Mandalorian behind her (she _really_ needed to ask his name) and decided to take action. Standing up, she pulled her teary eyed child close, and addressed the crowd. 

“Well, it seems there his more work to be done. Let’s clean up this mess, chop chop!” The villagers slowly began to disperse, and she turned back around as she heard two sharp laughs, one followed by a fit of coughing.

“And I say _he’s_ the blunt one.” Stated a highly amused Cara Dune, and the Mandalorian barked out another laugh, once again followed by some coughs that he attempted to mask by burying his masked face into the Child, much to it’s delight.

Omera let out an exasperated sigh. “Let’s get you fixed up.”

They were going to be alright.

  



	2. The Decision

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Omera deals with the aftermath of the battle, and begins to accept her feelings for a certain armor-clad Mandalorian.
> 
> Meanwhile, Dyn Jarren experiences some Baby Yoda induced fluff, and struggles to come to terms with what he is feeling and make a difficult decision.
> 
> Cara Dune is just in for the ride!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has already given my writing a chance, I appreciate your support! I have decided to make this a series and add on whenever I can, so no promises on any set schedule. I’m finding that writing helps me calm down when stressed, so there will probably be several chapters on the way... I really wanted to follow up on the last chapter, as well as add in more Baby Yoda, but I’m still struggling to integrate Winta to my writing. I’m not the best at writing characters, but I’m trying! Hopefully I’ll figure it out soon.

Omera watched as the quick, ragged breaths slowed, betraying the Mandalorian and showing her he had fallen asleep. Or passed out. The second was probably more likely... Omera waved over Caben who had been lashing together the sturdiest branches he could find for a makeshift stretcher. It was quite shabby, but it would do for now. They must be more prepared for incidents in the future, Omera realized, as people were bound to get seriously injured at some point. With or without the threat of attacking bounty hunters.

As Caben lay the stretcher on the ground, Omera glanced back at the unconscious Mandalorian. The Child was still curled in the crook of his neck, babbling softly. She felt her heart warm at the thought of the little creature trying to reassure his father-figure, but her attention was quickly pulled to the more urgent matter. His clothing was in tatters from various cuts, and she was certain she would find bruises hidden beneath all that armour... then there was the _knife protruding from his stomach area._

They really needed to get him medical attention. Something told her he wouldn’t allow himself to be unconscious, _unprotected_, willingly.

“Cara. Can you help me move him to the stretcher?” At the affirmative nod, the two gently hoisted the Mandalorian onto the stretcher. Omera swore she felt her heart crack a little at the pained noise that escaped the helmet. Omera shook her head. _No time for that now. He needs help, not pity._

Omera and Cara each took a side of the stretcher, the Child having laid down next to the Mandalorian, his head cushioned in the crook of his arm. Its big, curious eyes watched their every movement, and Omera could have sworn there was something protective in its gaze. She had to hold back a laugh at the thought of the tiny creature trying to defend the Mandalorian, and shook her head in response to Cara’s inquisitive gaze. 

As they reached her hut, Omera let out a sigh of relief. They lowered the Mandalorian gently onto the floor, and crouched beside his body to inspect the wounds. Hearing a floorboard creak, Omera turned her head to see Winta tentatively peering around the corner. “Come in.” She said with a gentle smile. 

Winta obliged, and sat beside her mother, worriedly looking between the Child and the dagger hilt sticking out of its father-figure’s body. “Will it be okay for him to see that?” She quietly asked her mother.

Omera let out a sigh. “I would ask for you to take him elsewhere, but I don’t think he’ll leave.”

“Ha, certainly doesn’t seem like it.” Cara replied, her tone as carefree as always. Leaning forward to inspect the hilt, she continued. “Daaaang, they got ‘im good, didn’t they? Guess he gets another battle scar.”

“_Cara_” Omera hissed at her, gesturing towards the children with her head. However, when she turned to look Winta was smothering giggles behind her hand, and the Child seemed less intense than before. Letting out a defeated sigh, Omera rolled her eyes. “Any suggestions?”

“Well, we should probably disinfect and stitch that nasty thing up soon. It looks pretty bad at first, but if you look closely, it didn’t hit any important organs. Whoever that guy was didn’t necessarily want to kill him, just get him to talk.” Cara glanced up before sending a wink in Omera’s direction. “Don’t worry, your pretty boy’ll be just fine, if not incredibly sore for a while.”

Omera sighed in relief a the good news. “That’s good...._wait, what? What the-_” Omera stiffened and began to splutter denials as the rest of what was said registered in her head. Fortunately, she remembered the children’s presence before she said anything volatile. _By the stars, what would I do if the Child’s first word was a swear word because of me?_

Omera decided to settle on just glaring in Cara’s direction. “We’ll want to get the supplies together before we pull it out. We don’t want him to start bleeding out on us...”

With a nod, Cara turned towards the children. “Hey kids. Mind getting us a needle and thread? I’ve got some disinfectant on me. Dunno why, I guess our dear Mandalorian’s ‘_be prepared_’ spew got the best of me.” She added in answer to Omera’s questioning gaze. Now it was Omera’s turn to hide a giggle. The Mandalorian did always seem to be ready for anything...

As the kids ran off to get the supplies, (the Child was much calmer now, and Winta was able to convince him to leave) the two adults began to carefully remove the armor, steering clear of his helmet. 

Cara let out a low whistle. “Now _that’s_ some nice _beskar_.”

“What does beskar mean?” Omera questioned. She didn’t know what it meant, but she’d caught it in snippets of conversations between the Mandalorian and Cara before. She was curious as to what it meant, as well as some other things the Mandalorian said. She often heard him speak to the Child in a different language, and longed to understand it.

“It’s Mando’a, it’s what they call their iron.” Came the reply. _Mando’a. So the Mandalorian’s have their own language._ Omera wasn’t quite sure why that came as a surprise to her. She thought it was lovely that he spoke to his child in his native language though...

As they disinfected the smaller cuts over his body, the children came back in with the needed supplies. “You two should go on and play now, I doubt you’d like to watch this.” Omera said. She didn’t think she’d like to see it much either. Winta nodded, and grinned at the Child in her arms before dashing back outside. _Children recover so quickly... If I didn’t know better, I’d have thought they’d be terrified to play outside right now._

She doubted the hunters would be back any time soon though, not after the fight they’d received. Omera and Cara made quick work of the task at hand, removing the blade and disinfecting the cut. Omera stitched it, as she was more experienced. After all, she had sewn hers and Winta’s clothes herself. Cara helped her wrap bandages around the nastier cuts, and sat back to assess their handiwork.

Cara stood after a few moments of silence. “Welp, he seems fine. I’m gonna go see about some spotchka.”

Omera stared after her in silence for a few moments, then smiled. _Well, that was ironically blunt._ Ever so gently, Omera cupped the helmet in her hands, and gazed into the visor as if searching for a gaze that she knew wasn’t there. Giving one last loving smile, she quietly stood and left him in peace. She had a village to clean up.

The Mandalorian jerked back to consciousness as something small and heavy slammed into his chest. Quickly, he reached up and grabbed the little body before it could completely topple over him, and sat up to settle it in his lap. He almost regretted it as his entire body protested the movement, but the grinning green face made it worth it. “Hey there ya little womprat. How are you ad’ika?” 

Satisfied with the answering chirrup he got as response, Dyn surveyed his surroundings. His helmet was still on, as were the now tattered clothes he had fought in, though the rest of his armour had been removed. He checked over the bandages that had been expertly applied, and briefly wondered who had fixed him up. Glancing around, he realized he was in Omera and Winta’s hut. 

Omera. The thought brought back the fear he had felt when he thought he’d lost her, as well as the warm, fuzzy feeling he usually got in his stomach when he saw her. Although that could just be the little green monster nuzzling his stomach with it’s fuzzy head. Speaking of which, that sorta hurt.

“Cut it out ya little womprat, I’m injured remember? Is this how you treat all injured people?” He gave an amused grin beneath his helmet, but it was quickly wiped away when he looked out the window. It looked to be late morning. 

_That can’t be right, it was noon when we left... I can’t have slept all night, could I have?_

Ignoring his body’s protests, he settled the Child on a nearby chair, and began to strap on his armor. Fully armored and ready to go, he scooped up the gurgling Child, and cradled it in his arms. “Olaror ti ni Ad’ika. Let’s find some others.”

Still ignoring the pain, Dyn strode out of the hut in full gear. Glancing around, he saw no sign of the previous day’s battle. The villagers had cleaned up quick. Spotting Omera sitting by a krill pond watching her daughter, he made his way over before he could change his mind.

“Good morning.” He spoke as he reached her, and she seemed startled by his voice. Standing up, she quickly turned and gave him a stink eye, presumably because of his leaving bed. He was rather impressed by the intensity she was able to put into it, until the Child burbled in his arms. It was hard to give an affective stink eye when you were obviously trying not to coo back at the baby. “Ah, moments lost, go ahead.” He gestured to the Child in his arms with a nod from his helmeted head.

Omera barely paused to give him another look, before she grinned down at the Child, and reached up to hold his claw-like fingers in her own hand. “Why hello, how are you my darling?”

Dyn felt surprise and that same warm fuzzy feeling from earlier when she called the Child ‘my darling.’ _So, this feeling is not the Kid head butting me. Good to know..._

He decided to break his own awkward trance by asking the question that had plagued him since he woke. “Did I really sleep all through the night and this morning?”

The sheepish look he got in response worried him...

“Oh, you slept waaaaay longer than that. Try, all that night, all the next day, and through this morning. You’re losing your touch, bounty hunter.” Came the dry response from behind him.

Alarm spiked through his body. “WHAT?” _Two night’s and a day? It’s a miracle I’ve survived till now if I stay unconscious _that_ long!_

A startled chirp brought him back to the present, and he gazed apologetically down at the green bundle in his arms. The Child was gazing up at him with concern clear in it’s dark eyes. “N'eparavu takisit, Ad’ika.” He murmured to the Child. Looking around once more, he found Omera glaring at Cara Dune behind him.

“What? I thought he liked blunt.” Cara casually responded, as she took a sip of Spotchka. Dyn let out a sigh to calm his thoughts and returned his gaze to the Child. It wasn’t too bad. He’d just need to be careful to be more vigilant in the future. He felt someone watching him, and glanced up at Omera, who looked as if she had something to say. 

At his encouraging nod, she spoke. “What you said before, to the Child? What did it mean?” She seemed genuinely curious, and in a split second he decided to oblige. 

“_N'eparavu takisit, Ad’ika. _I apologized for my behavior. _Ad’ika_ means little one.” He spoke softly, uncertain as to whether he should share this part of himself with her. He felt a soft hand on his arm and looked up. He met Omera’s eyes, and although he was wearing a helmet, he felt she knew exactly what his visored gaze meant.

“Oh boy, here we go.” Dyn and Omera both seemed to have chosen to ignore Cara Dune’s comment as her footsteps faded away. Now alone with Omera, Dyn felt even more embarrassed. A light chirrup drew him from his thoughts, grounding him as it always did. So, not _quite_ alone yet. Nevertheless, he decided to continue the conversation. 

“About yesterday... or, two days ago?” He still cringed to think about himself unconscious and defenseless for so long. If the Child had needed protecting, he would have been unavailable. The hand on his arm tightened, as if Omera could sense his thoughts. “I- I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” Came her soft reply. “All you did was protect me and the Child. Both honorable things. Though, for me... was what that man said- was it.. true?” The look she sent him was soft and hopeful, and the warm fuzzy feeling was back, fluttering about in his stomach and chest.

“Ni sirdir haat. I say truth.” He softly responded, holding eye contact through the visor and waiting for a response, any response to let him know, to tell him for sure, that she felt the same.

Omera smiled softly in return. “Good.” She whispered, and gently cupped the sides of his helmet, bringing his head down to kiss is forehead. For a moment, he wished the helmet was off, so he could feel the kiss, but then she turned and was gone, with him staring wordlessly at her departing form.

The Child gurgled at him, turning its head to grin at her as well. “Yup, your right as always.” Dyn told the Child. Begrudgingly, he turned to find Cara Dune. He had some things he wanted to clear up. He had to know if he could stay.

Dyn found Cara Dune nursing a cup of spotchka in her usual spot outside her hut. He must admit, it was a well thought out place to be; he guessed the children of the village thought so as well, as they would take turns sneaking up to sit in it. Whether they liked the position, or the ability to sit in the same place as a town hero, he did not know. He suspected that Cara enjoyed it, no matter how many times she runs the kids off; his observant gaze always spotted the smile hidden behind a spotchka cup whenever she sat down to watch the kids scramble. 

She had positioned a chair in a place warmed by the gentle sunlight, yet shaded enough to be comfortable in the hottest parts of the day. This was definitely a bonus, though Dyn liked it for another reason entirely. With the back facing a wall, there was a sense in security that came with the knowledge of no one sneaking up from behind, (though lets be real, who can really sneak up on a Mandalorian anyway?) and it was angled just right to provide a clear view of the surrounding village and forest. Being up against the door provided quick access to the weapons they stashed inside, as well as a good place to hide. Finally, you could easily climb to the hut’s roof for an aerial view, if needed. Dyn wondered if Cara had these strategies in mind when she originally set the chair out there; he suspected as a well trained soldier she did, though it could just be his overly paranoid brain at work.

Back to the moment at hand, Dyn strode over to his usual spot beside her, leaning against the opposite side of the door. Once again, it was a strategically good position; he got a clear view of the village and forest, access to shelter and weapons, and he was near enough to chat casually without the added threat of being close enough to stab. Not that he thought Cara Dune would stab him, he just... had a thing. Call it what you will, he just preferred to be prepared for any eventuality. (This was part of the reason Omera unsettled him. He felt he could let his guard down near her, which was just..._no_). 

Dyn stood in silence, and chose to watch the Child as it chirruped in his arms. Sure, he needed to talk to Cara, but that didn’t mean he wanted to initiate the conversation himself. That was definitely not his strong suit. 

“Sooooo. You gonna say something, orrr?” Cara rose an eyebrow and let her words drag out expectantly. When he didn’t respond, she let out a slightly exasperated huff. “Alright, what’s up? Is this about leaving again?”

_Intuitive as ever._ Thought Dyn as he gently rocked his arms. “I can’t stay.” He chose to say instead. 

This time, her huff was more annoyed. “Alright, you obviously wanna stay, the kid obviously wants to stay, the villagers obvioulsy want you to stay, and you’d be pretty dumb to not notice how much Omera wants you to stay. So what in the _worlds_ makes you think you have to go? Are you that scared to let yourself relax?”

Behind his helmet, Dyn frowned, still refusing to look up from the Child’s face. So maybe he was the _tiniest_ bit scared of letting his guard down. It was more than that though. “They’ll keep coming. For him and now me as well, most likely. We’re putting the village in danger.”

Dune scoffed. “We’ve already taught them to protect themselves, at your suggestion might I add, and they’d be in even more danger now if you left.” As he finally lifted his head to look at her and tilted his head to the side in confusion, she continued. “Now that they know you were here, and now they know you care for them, the bounty hunters would have no problem using these people as bait.”

_This is why you don’t get attached..._ Dyn let out a sigh, and suspected it was audible through the helmet if Cara Dune’s amused look was anything to go by. Leaning his head back to touch the wall, he squeezed his eyes shut in thought for a few moments, before looking straight ahead.

“_Rangir_.” 

The Child immediately let out a joyful squeal, and waved its arms to be set down. Cara only rose another eyebrow at the unfamiliar language, but shrugged it off and went back to her spotchka. She thought she got the message.

Setting down the Child, Dyn leaned further into the wall and crossed his arms over his chest, as he watched it toddle towards Winta and the other children. He couldn’t help but smile to himself when the group welcomed his kid with open arms. _His_ kid. His _ad’ika_.

Hearing footsteps, he turned to the right to see Omera walking up to him and Cara. She gave a pointed look towards the Child, and gave an amused grin. “He seems happy. Something new come up?” She questioned.

Dyn gave a slow nod as he gathered his thoughts, and could have sworn he heard a muttered “somethin’ like that” from Dune. 

Gazing steadily into Omera’s eyes through the visor, Dyn spoke:

“Got room for another hut in this village?” 

Her grin grew.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you once again to all those who have read! Please let me know of any mistakes I may have made!
> 
> Mando’a Translations:
> 
> Beskar - Mandalorian iron
> 
> Ad’ika - Little one
> 
> Olaror ti ni Ad’ika - Come with me little one
> 
> N'eparavu takisit, Ad’ika - I’m sorry little one (apology for behaviour)
> 
> Ni sirdir haat - I say truth
> 
> Rangir - to heck with it


	3. The Problem

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When a trip to town takes an unexpected turn, the Mandalorian finds his hands full with more than he had ever asked for. Or wanted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, here’s another chapter for y’all after another stressful day. I had a lot of fun writing this one, so I hope you enjoy! The next episode comes out tomorrow, and I’m super excited. I really hope Winta and Omera make another appearance in the future of the show. That’d be absolutely amazing! Also, please let me know if I ever forget to put any Mando’a translations at the bottom, or let me know if you have any other ideas for where to put them. I don’t want them to be in the way of the story, but I’d like them to be easily accessible.

Dyn continued to stay in the barn for the following week, as he was still to battered to build his own hut. Some of the villagers had volunteered to help, but he had politely declined. He’d been feeling restless, and would soon need some physical labor to focus on. For now, the main thing on his mind was the pain. It felt as though his whole body ached, and the wound on his stomach throbbed. He tried not to let it show, but worried glances from Omera, the Child, and even some villagers told him he was failing miserably. Miserably, which is exactly what he felt. Utterly miserable. Cara Dune had run out of painkillers, and a lot of his supplies had been destroyed by the bounty hunter’s grenade.

Dyn stepped out of the barn and leaned against the doorway to survey the village. He couldn’t help but envy the farmers going about their daily chores. He wished he could go out and patrol, but every time he tried to sneak off Cara or Omera appeared to stop him. He didn’t know how they knew, but had a sneaking suspicion his Ad’ika had something to do with it. The little womprat.

Finally having enough of standing around with nothing to do, Dyn decided to walk around the village. Surely no one could stop him from doing that, right? After all, it’s not like he was patrolling in the forest with all the thickets and branches to avoid. Dyn began to walk at random until a particular destination came to mind. Surely there would be something to do in the Longhall, right? After all, that’s where most people spent their off time, eating and chatting with friends. Mind made up, he changed course and walked straight towards the building.

Upon entering, several heads turned his way, but the people scattered about soon went back to their previous conversations. Scanning the room, Dyn tried to find a more familiar face to talk to, or at least somewhere he could sit to the side and observe in peace. Before he could move, a small bundle rocketed from a nearby bench into his stomach. The Mandalorian let out a small yet audible oof as he caught the Child with one hand, grasping his stomach with his other as he slightly doubled over in pain.

“Su cuy’gar Ad’ika.” He grunted out as he straightened back up, trying to pretend as though he had shown nothing. A quick glare at the Now watching villagers made them quickly follow his lead. “Maybe a little gentler next time.” He added sternly.

The Child cooed apologetically, and reached up at Dyn’s face with clawed fingers. He couldn’t possibly stay upset with the Child when he looked into its apologetic and concerned eyes. In fact, he himself felt guilty for his sharper words.

“Wait, your doing that on _purpose_, aren’t you? You little womprat.” Dyn let out a sigh, but was cut off before he continued by a small voice.

“We’re sorry. We only wanted to surprise you, we didn’t mean to hurt you...” Dyn glanced down at Winta, who had been hiding in the shadows of the corner by the doorway, next to the bench the Child had leapt from. They must have drug it over there in preparation for their sneak attack.

“It’s alright, no harm done _adiik_.” Winta gave a timid smile at the nickname, and looked considerably less worried than before. That is, until her mother came in, looking very miffed. As she turned towards them, Dyn faced her, and Winta let out a small _eep!_ and hid behind him, looking around his cloak. _Well, she warmed up to me fast._

All humor of the girls antics were erased when Omera’s stern gaze fell on him. He felt like she was picking him apart with her eyes, even with his body covered from head to toe in clothing and armor.

“_You_.” Said the irritated voice.

“_Me_.” He steadily replied, the helmet masking the only hint of uncertainty in his voice. What had he done?

“_Why_ aren’t you resting?”

“_Because_ I was bored.” Dyn heard a soft giggle behind him as Winta listened to him copy Angry Omera’s tone of voice. However, it was quickly stifled when the angry gaze turned to her, and she ducked further behind the Mandalorian.

“How are you ever going to get better if you keep trying to walk around? It’ll hurt more if you move!” Omera seemed genuinely concerned, and the thought warmed him; even as he faced the parental wrath that could only come from a mother who frequently worried about her children.

“It’ll hurts regardless.” Dyn replied. He was tired of being cooped up and confined to the barn. “We’re out of painkillers.”

He regretted his words immediately as Omera exploded at him. “_What_? Why didn’t you say something! I could have gone to get more at town! Why would you choose to be in pain instead of speaking up?!”

“K’atini!” He muttered under his breath. _It’s only pain!_ He was a Mandalorian. He was used to pain.

“What?”

“It’s nothing.” He quickly said, trying to cover up his mistake. He shouldn’t have said that aloud. Something told him Omera wouldn’t respond to kindly to that particular phrase... “Well, I’ll be going then. Take care of the kid?” He tried to hand off the Child, but it chirruped at him and clung to his shirt. He let out a sigh. _Guess you’re coming too._

“And _where_ are you going?” Omera questioned. She was no longer a stranger to the Mandalorian’s antics. She knew he would try to slip away in a moments notice. Not on her watch.

“To town, to get supplies. Bye!” Dyn said casually as he started to walk away. However, it seemed luck was not on his side.

“Hold up. No.” Omera held him back, and Winta ducked back behind his cloak. _Seriously, is Omera really that scary when she’s mad?_ “You are not going all the way to town with those injuries.”

“Come _onnn_. I’m fine. The only risk right now is me going crazy from being cooped up to long. I’m a bounty hunter, remember? It’s not in my lifestyle to sit around all day.” Dyn knew he sounded a bit childish, (and he imagined it sounded even more so with the helmet’s voice modulator) But he really didn’t care. He _needed_ something to do.

“Fine.” As Omera finally relented and released her previous irritation, Winta came out of hiding.

“Can I please come?” She looked up at the two adults, eyes shining. “I promise, I’ll be good.” Dyn turned his head and made eye contact (or as close as he could get to it with the helmet) with Omera.

“I’m good if you’re good.” Omera rolled her eyes, and bent down to hug her daughter tightly.

“Okay, but you must stay close to him, and you _must_ do what he says. I would come, but I have work to do.” 

As she stood back, Dyn began to leave with the two children. He took one last look around before they stepped out of the longhall. It was only then that he realized the entire room had stopped to watch the interaction between Angry Omera and the Mandalorian.

They reached the main village on foot using a switchback path through the woods as a shortcut. The droid-driven wagon had not yet been repaired, and they wanted to reach the town before noon. By this time, the pain in Dyn’s side had flared up tenfold, and he almost regretted insisting that he be the one to come. _Almost_. No amount of hurt could keep him cooped up any longer. Besides, he had dealt with worse before, and been just fine.

As they neared the edge of the town, Dyn stopped and gently pulled Winta aside. “Now remember what your mother told you. Stick close, listen closely, and don’t touch anything.”

Winta quickly gave a nod, excitement sparkling in her eyes. Dyn set down the Child so that it could have a chance to stretch its legs as well. Winta immediately took its hand in her own, and Dyn caught a whispered, ‘stay close.’ Smiling to himself, Dyn took the lead. He was careful to make sure he could see the children in his peripheral vision at all times; he knew how easy it was for those two to sneak off. As it was nearing noon, he headed for the diner first. The kids would soon get hungry, after all. 

As they walked through the town, Winta gazed at all the different huts with wonder. Several of them had booths set up outside, where people were selling goods such as jewelry and beads. One of the booths up ahead had a very nice silky ribbon with a pre-tied bow. As he noticed Winta’s wistful glance at it, he internally sighed. Omera was going to have his head for this.

When they walked past the booth, he grabbed the bow and flipped a coin to the merchant, all without breaking his stride. As he heard the merchant’s shouted ‘thank you’ behind him, he dropped behind Winta and quickly tied it in her hair. Of course, he didn’t have much experience (or any at all) so he had no clue what he was doing. For a first time though, he thought he did well. 

Quickening his pace, he resumed walking in front and a little to the side of the kids. Out of the corner of his eye, he could make out Winta’s dazed look as she processed what had happened. The Child gazed up at the bow with obvious interest, before smiling and chirping at her. Coming out of her trance, she turned bright eyes towards Dyn. In a flash, she appeared by his side, hugging him as tightly as she could without disturbing his wounds. “Thank you.” She whispered, and then she was once again walking beside the Child, with even more of a bounce in her step.

Dyn felt warmth spread through his body as he looked at the two foundlings. _Yes, that’s what they are,_ he decided. His foundlings.

Reaching the town’s diner, Dyn took a second to subtly glance through the doorway and survey the occupants. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary, he strode in, although he made sure to position himself between the kids and the more shady-people. You could never be too distrustful. Flipping another couple of coins to a worker, he ordered two bowls of soup, before leading the kids to a table in the back. He wanted to be in a place where he could easily see the comings and goings of everyone in the room. 

Winta carefully leaned down and hoisted the child up into a chair, before taking the seat next to it. Dyn took the seat on the opposite side of the small table, and watched as a waitress brought up the soup. 

“And, nothing for you sir?” She politely asked, even as she looked at his armour and weapons with unease. 

_She’s probably new here._ Dyn thought as he gave a short ‘no.’ The waitress walked off, and he turned to see Winta watching him over her bowl. 

“Why don’t you take your helmet off?” She asked, her dark eyes wide with curiosity and a tinge of confusion.

“It is not the Way.” He replied, simply. Rather than look further confused, the girl shrugged her shoulders and accepted the answer for what it was. She turned toward the Child and smiled, letting out a giggle. It had already finished its bowl, which was currently resting upside down on its head between the floppy ears. “Alright Ad’ika.” He sighed, grabbing the bowl and setting it back on the table. The Child only grinned wider.

As Winta finished her bowl of soup, the Mandalorian stood and stretched his back out. “Okay, time to go.” He grunted. Lifting the Child off its chair, he handed it to Winta. The girl quickly wrapped her arms around him, and smiled down at the little creature. Dyn felt a soft smile tug on his lips at the sight. Oh, how soft he’d grown. The strangest part was that he couldn’t find it in himself to mind, although he was glad he wore a helmet so that know one else could see.

Guiding the children through the throngs of people, they left the diner and headed towards a booth selling medical supplies. He’d lost a lot more than just his medicines during the attack, but he didn’t fancy the idea of trekking back to the krill farm on foot whilst carrying a ton of supplies. He figures he’d opt for the pain meds now, and figure out what to do about his other stuff later. 

As he skimmed through the different types of meds, he watched the kids off to the side. Winta had sat cross-legged on the ground with the Child in her lap, and they seemed to be playing some sort of game, pointing out different things they could see. Buying some pain meds, a disinfecting spray, and a small roll of bandages, he stuffed them into a small pocket on his side and turned to the kids. 

“Alright, time to leave.” He felt a twinge of guilt at the sad look that crossed Winta’s face, and the disappointed frown on the Child, but brushed it off. He wanted to get back before the sun went down, and it was a long walk. As the children stood, he began to wind his way back through the huts and merchant stalls of the town. As they passed between two buildings, he stopped in his tracks, throwing out an arm to stop Winta and the Child.

Lifting his blaster out of its holster on his belt, he listened carefully. Another thin wail pierced his ears. A lesser warrior wouldn’t have even noticed, but he was a Mandalorian. He noticed everything. Following the sound, he spotted a little burrow at the base of one of the walls to his left. With a quick order to the children to _stay_, he crouched beside it. 

Looking in, he spotted what had to be the tiniest, most pitiful scrap of fur he’d ever laid eyes on. Reaching in with a gloved hand, he withdrew the tiny cat-like creature and held it up to the light. It had pale brown fur, with large, swirling stripes of darker brown stripes as well as black specks. The little scrap of fur opened its tiny mouth and let out another tiny squeal.

Within seconds of the discovery, Winta ran up with the Child in her arms. “Awwwwww, poor thing!” Her dark eyes were filled with concern and sadness at the creature in distress. “What is it?” She crouched beside the Mandalorian, taking in the little creature with big ears and a fluffy tail.

“It looks like a Loth-Cat if I’m not mistaken. It’s a subspecies of Tooka. Why would it be here though?” Dyn suddenly remembered his first day on Sargon, when he had ventured to town with the Child. A Loth-Cat had swiped at the Child from underneath the table of a group of travelers. “There was a group here awhile back with a big one. We can see if they’re still here.”

Winta nodded, and stood back up. Cradling the small feline in his hand, he held it close to his chest plate. He didn’t want to upset Winta and the Child by dropping it by accident. Sighing, he turned back toward the diner. _It’s going to be a looong day..._

Upon reaching the diner, Winta rushed ahead and bounded inside. Dyn began to call out, but shook his head and sped his own pace instead. Walking inside, he found Winta looking rather shy as a waitress asked what she needed. After all, she still didn’t have much experience with strangers, and her excitement had gotten the better of her.

Coming to her rescue, Dyn walked up behind her. He must have been a considerably more formidable figure, decked out in full Mandalorian gear and standing behind the cowering girl. The startled waitress looked up at him, and immediately looked worried. He realized it was the same jumpy waitress from before. _Maybe she thinks we had a problem with her serving us._

Rather than let the poor girl jump to false conclusions, and wanting to be done with the task at hand so he could return to the village, he decided to get straight to the point. 

“Do you know of a group of travelers that passed through here a couple weeks ago? They had a Loth-Cat with them.” 

The girl startled for a moment, and began to stutter out a response. “I-I’m sorry sir, I-I don’t know. I only b-began last w-week.” She indeed looked very apologetic for not knowing more, though he figured that was kore from fear of the bounty hunter standing before her than anything else. Luckily for her, another waitress came up from behind.

“Well, look who’s back! I figured you’d jumped planet a few weeks ago. What can I do for you?” It was the same waitress who had served him the first day. 

“I’m looking for the travelers who had a Loth-Cat with them. Seen them?” Dyn briskly asked. He _really_ just wanted to go back to the village and take some pain killers. Why did they have to find a pitiful scrap of fur?

“I’m sorry, they left a couple weeks back. Won’t be coming back anytime soon I’ll tell you. Anything else I can do for you?” He saw her quick glance at the pouch on his belt where he kept his coins, and internally huffed in annoyance. 

“No, thank you.” He flipped her a coin, and handed the younger waitress two for the trouble. He didn't feel particularly bad about scaring her, (he was a bounty hunter after all) but he wanted to set a kind example for the kids. As they walked out the diner, he took one look at Winta’s sad face and let out an audible groan.

“Guess we’re stuck with you, vaar’ika.”

The Child looked up at him and grinned.

They reached the village around night fall, the sun barely shining over the trees ahead. He could tell the kids were tired by the way Winta’s feet dragged and the Child’s eyelids drooped. However, when he glanced over the girl gave him a wide, yet tired grin, and the Child babbled happily.as they reached the edge of the village, Omera ran up and hugged her child. 

“Oh, thank the stars you’re safe. Where have you been! What took so long?” The last part was aimed at Dyn Jarren as she suddenly stood up and rounded on him. He automatically took a precautionary step back, his free hand lowering the slightest bit towards his belt before he caught himself. His covered face flushed with shame as he quickly stepped forward again. The whole thing happened so fast, one probably wouldn’t have noticed it. However, he caught a look of _something_ flash across Omera’s face, and his guilt grew. _Maybe distrust isn’t everything._ He thought, thinking back to his earlier silent commentary when they had entered the diner at the town.

“We, uh, came across a little trouble.” He stated, lamely gesturing to the little Loth-Cat in his hands. It let out a small squeak. It hadn’t moved much the entire journey back, obviously weak and malnourished. 

“Oh.” Came the surprised response. Omera reached out and gently stroked its fluffy head with a finger.

“We want to name it Vaar’ika.” Winta grinned at the adults, with wide hopeful eyes. The Child smiled and gurgled in her arms. “That’s what he called it.” She said as she pointed to the Mandalorian.

Dyn was taken aback. “Wait- What? No, that- that wasn’t meant to be a name.” He quickly said.

“Why? What does it mean.” Omera had fixed him with a sharp gaze, voice low and fierce. She did _not_ want her girl cussing in another language. Or any language, for that matter.

Dyn sighed. He felt he’d been doing that a lot lately. “Nothing too bad. It means runt, or pip-squeak.”

“Pip-squeak.” Omera repeated, shoulders relaxing. “Well, you’re right, that’s not too bad. What are we going to feed...it?”

“It’s a her.” He replied. “And I’m not sure. It’s a carnivore, so meat of some kind? Maybe some krill meat.”

“Well, you seem to know the most about it, so I’ll leave you to it.” Omera cheerfully responded, giving him a devilish grin. “I’m putting the children to bed now, since _someone_ kept them out so long. At least they’ll sleep peacefully tonight.”

“Yeah,” he agreed. Then the first part of her statement hit him. “Wait, What? No-”

But she had already walked away, leading the kids to the huts. Glancing down at the scrap of fluff, he let out a huff.

“Should have called you shu’shuk.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mando’a Translations
> 
> Su cuy’gar Ad’ika - Hello little one
> 
> Adiik - Child 3-13
> 
> Vaar’ika - pip-squeak, or runt
> 
> Shu’shuk - disaster


	4. The Runt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Omera pays a visit to thank the Mandalorian, and finally learns a little bit of much needed information about him.
> 
> Dyn finds that no matter how hard he tries, he can’t help but take in small, helpless creatures.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, I thank everyone who has read this so far (and will read it in the future). I appreciate the support! I really enjoy reading Mandomera stories, and I’ve come across so many amazing authors! I hope y’all enjoy this next chapter, and I hope I can live up to expectations as well!

Omera led the children, droopy eyed and feet dragging, into her hut. They had opted to sleep in the same cot tonight, which wasn’t particularly unusual. They were often inseparable; one of the many reasons she had not wanted the Child and Mandalorian to leave. 

Winta sat on the edge of the cot, the Child babbling tiredly beside her. Omera squinted her eyes as she looked at her daughter...something was different. Her hair.

The front locks of Winta’s hair had been pulled back from her face, and tied together with a rather pretty green, silky bow. _Well I know I didn’t put that in her hair. _

Smiling to herself, Omera walked over and undid the slightly messy hairdo, which further confirmed her suspicions of who had done it. Although nice at a glance, it was obviously done by an amateur. Gently combing out the dark tangles in Winta’s hair with her fingers, Omera kissed both children goodnight and left the hut. She had a certain Mandalorian to thank.

As she walked between the huts, she felt a cool breeze brush past her hair. It was rather nice outside at night, with the cool air, and stars glittering above. As she reached her destination, she paused outside the doorway. She wasn’t one to walk in without permission, especially when there was the possibility of a helmet-less Mandalorian to walk in on. Not that she hadn’t wondered what his face would look like, of course she had. She just wasn’t willing to break his trust in order to find out.

As she raised her hand to knock on the wall, she heard a modulated, yet slightly irritated, voice.

“Come on you undersized blurrg. I knew I should have called you shu’shuk.” Grinning to herself, Omera knocked twice and asked for entry. At the affirmative answer, she walked inside only to find the bounty hunter lying on his stomach trying to reach into in the base of the wall. Now, she was no expert, but that hole looked way to big for his hand.

“Troubles?” She casually asked, feeling a smile tug on the corners of her lips.

The helmets visor glared up at her. “I tried to feed it some krill meat, and that ungrateful Loth-Rat just ran straight in there with it.” He gestured angrily towards the hole. “She’s gonna stink up the whole place!”

Omera kept a straight face as she casually replied. “She can’t stink it up any more than you already have, can she?” She could feel the disbelieving look even through the helmet.

“Excuse me?”

“You’re excused.” This time, she did grin, causing the Mandalorian to huff in annoyance once more. Giving one last look at the hole, he sighed and sat up. She couldn’t see his face, but she felt that he had winced when he did so. “Are you alright? Did the pain meds not work?”

“Wouldn’t know, haven’t gotten a chance to take them yet. Not with this little menace running around.” As he spoke, he glared at the hole. As if in answer, they heard the tiniest little mew in response.

“Awwwww, is the big scary man being mean to you? Poor thing.” She ignored the Mandalorian’s protests in favor of bending over and peering into the hole. It was dark inside, but she thought she could make out the faint silhouette of a little creature with long, pointy ears and a bushy tail. 

Looking back at the Mandalorian with a soft smile, she got to the reason she was there. “I wanted to thank you, for everything. Winta can get a bit excited when it comes to seeing new things, so thank you for taking care of her and allowing her to join you. And thank you for the bow. That was kind of you.”

The Mandalorian looked away before speaking. “She’s a.. good kid. I think she’s more than earned it.”

Omera felt warmth spreading through her chest at the way he spoke about her child. She also couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit of amusement mixed with a twinge of sadness at how awkward the Mandalorian still was when it came to casual conversations, especially when they had to do with him being thanked. Thinking of the Mandalorian, she still had an important question to ask.

“Oh, um,” she began awkwardly, internally cringing. _Great, now I’m the one who doesn’t know what to say._ “I was wondering, if... if you could tell me your name?” She saw him stiffen beside her, still looking away. “It’s just, it’s getting a little awkward thinking of you as just the Mandalorian all the time. You’re more than that.” She finished in almost a whisper, and when the silence dragged out she wondered if she had made a mistake.

When she had finally had enough and was about to make an excuse to leave, his helmet turned a fraction in her direction.

“It’s... It’s Dyn. Dyn Jarren.” He murmured softly, the voice modulator of his helmet making it difficult to hear. But voice modulator or not, she heard it. And it filled her heart with warmth. _Dyn Jarren,_ she thought. _It fits._

Before she could say anything, a tiny ball of fluff darted from the hole, krill in mouth.

“Gotcha ya little Loth-Rat.” Quicker than she could even blink, Dyn’s hand flashed out and scooped up the little creature. It only let out a little _mrrp_, and gobbled up the krill as Dyn reached up with his other hand to take it back. Sighing, he rested two gentle fingers on its head instead. It let out another soft _mrrrrr_, and curled up in his palm.

“It’s a wonderful creature.” Omera said, taking in its beautiful coat. It was mostly a light, sandy brown, with white fur that stretched from its underbelly to unevenly cover its face, as well as a white patch on the top of its tail. It’s forehead, back, tail, and ears were all covered in large, swirling, dark brown stripes, and its eyes were the same shade of brown. Sprinkled about its coat was also some black specks, that make her think of seeds being thrown into the fields of a farm.

As she finished her assessment, Dyn only snorted. “Kaysh shu’shuk.” He replied. At her questioning glance, he continued. “She’s a disaster, that’s what she is. Do you know how long I had to lay there? For nothing?” 

Omera only smiled in response, and she left the Mandalorian in peace to take his meds.

It had been nearly two weeks since they had first found the little Loth-Cat. It had grown in that time, and was now slightly too big for him to fit in his hand. Dyn leaned against the outside of the barn, and watched as the creature sat next to Winta and the Child, tilting its head in curiosity. It’s long whiskers brushed the girl’s hand, and she giggled before patting its head and returning to work.

Winta was currently teaching the Child how to weave baskets. Dyn doubted the Child actually understood, but what did he know? The kid was fifty, after all. Maybe it could comprehend more than it let on. 

The Child grabbed a frog as it hopped by, and stuffed it in its mouth. _Never mind._

Dyn was there in an instant, grabbing the things legs and tugging. “C’mon, spit it out. How many times do I have to tell you, _no eating live animals?_”

“Ewwwwww” Winta squealed, and the Loth-Cat let out a little _mrrrow_ as well. Dyn released the frog, and gave the Child an exasperated look. He knew it couldn’t see it, but he always felt as though it could _sense_ what he was feeling.

“I think that’s good enough for now.” He told Winta. “Why don’t you go to the Longhall, and I’ll get you something to eat. You can continue your lesson later.”

Winta nodded enthusiastically, and scurried off with the Child toddling close behind her. The little Loth-Cat stood up, and rubbed its little body against Dyn’s armored legs. Dyn awkwardly shifted away, but the cat persisted.

“Fine.” He said to the little creature, as it wrapped its bushy tail around his calf. “Let’s get you something as well.” Letting out a small chirp, the tiny creature bounded away. 

Walking into the Longhall, Dyn gathered two bowls of some bioluminescent soup, as well as a much smaller bowl (made by a very proud Winta with the help of the Child, who had likely just watched) filled with krill meat. He weaved through the small crowd of villagers that was gathered, and made his way toward the table in the far back corner where the children liked to sit. Winta and the Child were on one end of the table, and two girls he didn’t know sat at the other end. He briefly wondered if he should get to know the other village children soon, but brushed the thought away in favor of serving the food. He watched silently as the Loth-Cat leapt onto the stool beside the Child, and looked at the food in Dyn’s hand expectantly.

“Here you go, you impatient Loth-Rat.” He said as he passed out the bowls.

“Hmmm, pretty sure you mis-labeled It’s species.” A bored voice drawled from behind. “Last I checked, that’s called a Loth-Cat.”

Dyn turned towards Cara as she walked up behind him. “Coulda fooled me.” He replied in the same tone, gesturing to the animal’s size. He got a very undignified snort in return. 

“She is quite the pip-squeak.” She replied.

“That’s what we named her!” Winta chirped cheerfully, as she took another bite of food. “Vaar’ika!” The Child babbled a confirmation.

Dune looked at Dyn and rose an eyebrow. “Teaching them Mando’a, are we? Careful what you say around them, Omera will have your head if they start cussing in another language. Then again,” she continued in a suggestive tone, “if they _were_ to suddenly start to cuss in Mando’a, you’re the only one who could have possibly taught them, right?” 

Dyn leveled her with a hard, silent stare through his visor. “Don’t you dare.” He said in a dangerous monotone voice.

Cara cackled in response, causing the Loth-Cat to look up at her and meow.

Dyn strode easily through the forest, having figured out a designated path to take with the least amount of thickets and bushes to push through on patrol. He didn’t dare create a new path, as that would give him and his patrols away to any experienced bounty hunters that may come looking for him and the Child, but he did manage to make his route a little clearer without looking suspicious. It just looked like a trail made by passing wildlife. He didn’t mind pushing through a few leaves, as long as he could finally walk around outside of the village again. Those pain meds had worked wonders.

Speaking of passerby wildlife, he hoped that was what made the sound up ahead. Crouching down behind a bush, Dyn pulled out his blaster and waited. The leaves on the bush rustled again...

And out popped the little fluff-ball.

_Mrrow?_ It walked up to him, and rubbed its little body against him in greeting. It was much fluffier, and it’s coat had a healthier shine to it now that it was being well fed and taken care of. It was still small, but it was young too. It would grow more with time.

“Su’cuy, Vaar’ika.” He said, reaching down and patting its head. Stretching up on its hind legs, it placed its front talon-like feet on his knee. When he made no movement to remove it, it sprang up onto his shoulder. “Hey- I don’t-” 

It crouched down low and opened its wide mouth to hiss when he tried to remove it. Dyn let out a sigh. Could be worse. Could be an actual Loth-_Rat_. At least this one was cute.

Standing up, Dyn put his blaster back into its holster and continued to patrol. The Loth-Cat remained a silent sentry, standing (or rather crouching) guard on his shoulder. It’s little ears flicked towards every small sound, and it would whip its head around to listen intently before deciding it was safe. _Hmm. Maybe your good for something after all. _

When he was finished with patrol, he walked back into town. He chose to ignore the amused looks of the villagers, and pretended he couldn’t hear Cara Dune’s shouted “Awwwwwww, the bounty hunter’s got himself another friend!”

Shows what they knew. This cat was tiny and cuddly on the outside, but Loth-Cats were natural predators. They were hunters at heart, able to track their prey far distances and sense even the tiniest forms of movement. They were naturally distrustful, and didn’t like being near people (though he assumed that this one was fine since they’d raised it from a kit.) He’d also heard they were ferocious in a battle, though he had deigned to ignore that detail when he saw this one. He’d have to revise his opinions. The more he thought about it, the more he realized they were one in the same.

_Maybe we will get along, after all._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mando’a Translations
> 
> Kaysh shu’shuk - She (or he) is a disaster
> 
> Vaar’ika - runt, or pip-squeak
> 
> Su’cuy Vaar’ika - Hey Pip-squeak


	5. The Revelation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As unwanted memories arise, the Mandalorian finds it difficult to know whether he is truly doing what is right. 
> 
> The villagers just want to help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone is still reading, I honestly have no idea where this came from. I was a bit bored, started writing, and this is where we ended up. I hope you enjoy either way! I’m not quite sure how I feel about this chapter yet, but oh well!
> 
> Also, there’s practically no information at all on Loth-Cats, so I’m pretty much just winging it with Vaar’ika.

Dyn sat in the barn with his pulse rifle laying across his lap. The Child and Winta had gone out to play with the other village children, so it was just him and the cat. Gazing at the weapon he held, Dyn tried to get his thoughts straightened out. He was having a really bad day.

It wasn’t even that anything had happened that was bad; it was just that memories of his past had decided to suddenly bombard his brain all at once. Pulling out a red cloth, he looked at it for a moment before he began slowly, methodically, cleaning the rifle. 

_A boy in a bright red hoodie. A battle. Screams._

He ignored it. He kept cleaning the rifle with those slow, methodical swipes of the red cloth.

_The boy was placed in a shelter. An explosion. A super battle droid. Everything gone. The hoodie all that was left._

Dyn sighed and abandoned his efforts, leaning his head back against the wall of the hut. Even the simple red cloth used to clean his weapons came with bad memories.

Dyn stood up with a grunt, and strapped his pulse rifle to his back. Walking to the door, he glanced out to the early morning sunlight. He could spot Winta and the Child kicking around some sort of ball made from woven twigs and branches with the other kids. There was a time, a much simpler time long, long ago where that would have been him. As a sudden thought struck him, Dyn pressed a few buttons on the gauntlet on his wrist, and checked the date. Huh. Well, he supposed that explained things a bit. Today was the day everything had changed. Today was the day where, many years ago, everything in his life had turned to heck.

Dyn shook his head. _Maybe I’ll take an early patrol, stay away from people for a while. Might take my mind off it._

Glancing at the sun, he decided it wasn’t really that early. No one would even notice he was leaving earlier. Probably. Hopefully. Welp, time to go on patrol then.

As if sensing his thoughts, the resident feline flung itself onto his shoulders, balancing precariously between his head and shoulder plate. Sitting down, it raised a clawed hand to lick and swipe at a twitching ear. Looking up at him expectantly, it flicked its big, bushy tail. _Mrrow_.

“Whatever, I could use some company I suppose.” 

_Being saved, taken in by the Mandalorians. Raised as a foundling. No friends. No family. Alone._

Dyn strode out of the hut, walking towards the edge of the woods. He hoped his rush wasn’t noticeable. He just wanted to get away. He felt that if he stayed in the village any longer, he would burst.

_Tightly packed buildings. People running, screaming. Bombs bursting. Houses burning._

Dyn wondered if it would be very noticeable if he picked up the pace. As if sensing his distress, the Loth-Cat began to purr, a gentle, soothing sound that warmed him to the core. He thought it might be one of the most thoughtful things anyone had ever done for him.

As he reached the edge of the village, someone stepped out and blocked his path. “Woah there, Mando. Where you rushing off to? Taking that pretty kitty of your’s out for a leisurely stroll?”

_Droids blocking off people’s escape. Blasters firing. Citizens falling._

As his breathing picked up speed, the Loth-Cat let out a worried _mrrr?_ and rubbed its face on the edge of his helmet. Shoving past Cara, he tried to walk off again. She grabbed his wrist, instead.

“You alright there? You seem a bit off...” Now Cara seemed even more concerned. She was used to him ignoring her jabs, but this seemed...different.

“_Slana’pir!_” He said, motionlessly staring straight ahead. With a sudden jerk of his hand, he was free and walking towards the woods once again. The Loth-Cat upon his shoulder resumed its purring, in an attempt to calm him down once more. _I’m fine little guy._ He thought. _I just need some time to shut myself off, as usual._

Cara Dune was a highly trained soldier. She knew when something was wrong, whether it be a visual representation or a gut feeling. She had known something was wrong when she saw the Mandalorian rushing for the woods as if on patrol. It wasn’t unusual for him to switch up patrol times; in fact, he preferred to. No one wants an enemy to be able to track their schedule. No, it was something else that had caught her eye. 

Maybe it was the speed with which he walked. Maybe it was the way he was so focused on the destination, not bothering to look around at all. After all, he practically always had an eye on the Child. Always. No matter the reason, Cara knew something was up and had tried to step in with some casual banter. If she could get him to open up a bit...

But he shoved off her attempt to keep walking. It wasn’t in his usual way either. There was no fond exasperation, no _humpf_ of annoyance. He was completely silent, focused on the woods. She grabbed his hand. After all, if something was up, she couldn’t let him go throwing himself to the wind. She felt strangely obligated to help him. Then again, she was used to working with others. Her squad had to look out for each other in order to survive on the battle field. However, when he felt her hand on his wrist, he didn’t stop. He _froze_. 

_Something’s definitely not right here. He’s always been jumpy, but he knows by now I’d never hurt him. With ill-intent anyways._

The final straw was the fierce ‘slana’pir’ that had left his mouth before he wrenched his arm away from her grip and walked out of sight. She stood still for a few seconds, maybe from slight shock. She hadn’t met many Mandalorians in her time, but she knew enough Mando’a to know how incredibly harsh that particular saying was. She also knew how gentle and caring their particular Mandalorian was, no matter how tough he looked under all that beskar. He would never yell at a friend to ‘get lost’ like that.

Turning back to walk further into the village, she began her search for Omera.

Instead of following his usual path for patrol, he continued farther into the woods. As he had reached the tree line, he realized he didn’t really want to patrol. No, he had wanted to escape. Escape this village, as he hadn’t been able to escape the last. No, he didn’t escape that first attack, not really. He had been saved. By Mandalorians.

Shoving further into the trees, he found an area with a clearing. It was far enough away from the village that he couldn’t see nor hear anyone, but close enough that he could get back soon if needed. He may be having a bad day, but he wasn’t going to leave his kid where he couldn’t help. Not after the bounty hunters had shown up. 

Leaning his back against a large tree trunk, he slid down until he was sitting, his legs loosely bent in front of him. The Loth-Cat jumped from his shoulder, and curled up into a tiny ball by his side; its large, pointed ears swiveled this way and that, always alert even while it rested. He scratched her little head, earning a delighted _mrrr_ in response.

_Okay, focus._ He closed his eyes. He needed to be able to shut himself off, like he always did on this day. He must have let his guard down to much during his time in the village. He had completely forgotten this day was coming, and therefore hadn’t been mentally prepared. He took a deep breath, and remembered what the Mandalorians had taught him.

_A small boy in a red hoodie sat in a dark room. A Mandalorian armorer sat cross-legged before him. The child was handed the traditional clothes of the Mandalorian people. Quickly changing, he set his old clothes beside him, the hoodie resting in his lap._

_The Armorer gently took the hoodie, and held it up before the child. “What has happened, is a thing of the past. We must not dwell on it. We must not let the past affect our emotions for the future. But we learn from it. We use the past, to learn from it, to become wiser. No mistake shall be made twice.”_

_The Armorer waited, while the child pondered the words. When it gave a nod, she cut off a portion of the hoodie. The child didn’t react. She tossed the hoodie and the old clothes into the fire, his last physical memories of his past gone. The child didn’t bat an eye. _

_“You are a quick learner, young one. You will be good for us.” She handed the child the remaining scrap of red cloth. “Use this, and learn from it. It shall remain a reminder from your past. Use it to prepare. Prepare for the future.”_

_The child took the scrap of cloth. He remained strangely calm, even as the Armorer began to bang, clang, create. She took the finished helmet, and held it up to the flickering light of the fire._

_“You are ready, little one.” She slid the helmet over his head. “You are no longer the frightened child you once were. You have changed. No one must ever see these emotions on your face again. They are a thing of the past. This is the way.”_

_The Child gave a single nod of his helmet._

The Mandalorian took a deep breath. Another memory came.

_The child was older now, training with the other foundlings. They stood lined up against the wall of the cave they were in, waiting in silence for instructions. The teacher before them held a bird. _

_“No emotions must impair your thinking. If you allow yourself to fear the enemy, we are all endangered. If you let yourself love the enemy, we are all endangered. Sympathy, compassion, all these must go as they can be used against you, in more ways then you know. Loyalty and a desire to serve your clan is all that you need. You live to serve the clan. To protect the clan. You live to feed and teach the future generations of foundlings such as yourselves. Emotions hinder our movements. They allow for mistakes.”_

_In a swift moment, the bird was crushed in his unforgiving hand. “This is the Way.”_

_The line nodded in perfect unison. “This is the way.” They echoed._

The Mandalorian opened his eyes once more. The tiny Loth-Cat perched on his knees, dark eyes watching his visor. _Mrrow?_ It jumped to his shoulder.

The Mandalorian stood, not once acknowledging its movements. He surveyed the land around him. The sun had past its zenith not long ago, but he’d been gone for hours. He should get back to the village. As he walked, his senses seemed to be hyperactive; he felt he could see every twitching leave, hear every soft gust of wind. Good.

He had let his guard down to much, his senses hadn’t been where they should be. Now they were. The silent meditation away from distractions seemed to be just what he had needed. He was calm now, clear headed in a way he hadn’t been for a while. As he reached the village, he took it in with the steady eye of the bounty hunter he was. The krill ponds added some protection from outside invasions, causing large groups of attackers to have to spread apart and run single file across the land bridges in between. However, it wasn’t much. Especially since the rest of the village was wide and open, people easily visible between the huts as they walked to their destinations. If someone wanted to, they could easily sit in the trees of the woods and pick people off one by one. He should bring it up with the villagers. Sure they were used to peaceful lives, but if he and the Child were to stay... they were going to need more protection. 

As he walked between the huts, he sensed movement behind him. The Loth-Cat’s ears twitched back, before angling forward in a relaxed position once more. Obviously, they were both in agreement that there was no threat. The Mandalorian turned around and waited, arms crossed. Cara Dune and Omera stopped as they rounded the corner to find him waiting. 

“Why are you following me.” It was more of a statement than a question.

Omera spoke first, gentle as always. “We wanted to see if you were okay.”

“I’m fine.” His voice was still emotionless and monotone, made even more so by the voice modulator within his helmet. He felt the slightest twinge in his chest as Omera flinched back a little, but smushed it down immediately. There was no room in him for weakness, only the Way. He was Mandalorian after all.

Cara, however, had had enough. “Alright, what the kriff is going on with you? You’ve been acting weird all day, and it’s not your usual awkwardness. This is something else.”

“I’m fine.” The Mandalorian continued staring straight ahead, unmoving yet seeing and hearing everything. As a proper bounty hunter should. 

“You are not fine. You were all jumpy and defensive when you ran off this morning, and now you come back as emotionless as a......”

Cara stopped for a moment, tilting her head to the side as her eyes narrowed. “As a Mandalorian.” 

Cara stood beside Omera, the Mandalorian staring at them blankly. It was strange. He stood completely motionless other than the twitching ears of the ball of fluff perched on his shoulder, yet she felt as though he knew exactly what was happening all around him. It was unsettling to say the least.

As soon as she realized what exactly his current behavior reminded her of, she did a mental facepalm. Of course. 

An idea fluttered across her brain. She had something to test.

She began to reach down toward her belt. Her hand froze as, in the blink of an eye, the Mandalorian before her drew his blaster, pointing it directly between her eyes. Beside her, Omera jumped. She had wide eyes and a horrified expression on her face; Cara felt a little bad doing this in front of her, but she had to know... Even as Cara focused on the task at hand, she had to admit his speed was impressive. Raising a single eyebrow, she continued reaching down with exaggeratedly slow movements. She could almost feel his eyes tracking her hand from behind the visor of his helmet. 

As her hand reached her belt, she slowly flipped open the lid of a pocket and pulled out some roasted seeds. She dropped them in her mouth, chewed, and swallowed. “Haven’t had lunch yet.” She simply stated.

The Mandalorian slowly lowered his blaster, re-holstering it. Shrugging her shoulders, Cara grabbed Omera by the arm and walked away. She had her answer. Dyn had reverted back to his Mandalorian ways. Now the only questions that remained were _why_ and _how do we get Dyn back?_

Omera silently sat and listened to Cara’s explanation. Dyn had reverted back to Mandalorian ways. But that didn’t make any sense. Even when Dyn had first arrived, he hadn’t been like..._that_.

When she voiced her reasoning aloud, Cara looked thoughtful before she nodded. “You’re right. Even when we fought in the village-“

“You fought in the village? Right, not important right now.” Omera sheepishly motioned for Cara to continue. 

“Even when we fought in the village, he wasn’t like that. He even asked me if I wanted some soup when our fight ended in a draw. So he must have changed from the usual Mandalorian attitude before that. But what is the one thing in common that he had both times we met him? What is the thing he wanted more than anything else, that influenced his movements whenever we saw him?”

Omera gave her a confused look. She wasn’t quite sure she was following.

“The kid.” Cara said. “He wanted to protect the kid. My guess is that the Child is what caused him to change in the first place. Otherwise he’d still be out collecting bounties and what not.”

Omera felt understanding dawn on her. He was fiercely protective of the Child, ever since she had met him. It was one of the things she loved about him. 

“So what do you suggest we do?” Omera was prepared for anything. There was nothing she wanted more in this moment than to get back the kind-hearted soul who had helped them defeat the raiders. Who had thought everything that would have been considered an obligation of a host by normal people, was thoughtful. Who got adorably flustered whenever he had to make small talk. He who been kind enough to buy Winta a new ribbon. Who had taken in a Child. She had to get him back, no matter what.

“I want to use the Child as bait.”

“_What_?”

The Mandalorian sat in the barn once again, cleaning off the weapons that had been salvaged when the wagon had exploded with a bright red cloth. His reminder of the past. When he was told to use it to prepare for the future, he had decided to take the meaning literally. From then on, he used it to clean all of his weapons and armor; preparing for future battles and confrontations. Soft moonlight shone through the window, reflecting on the metal of the gun. For a moment, everything was peaceful. And then it wasn’t.

The next moments came in rapid succession, yet his hunter’s mind was able to keep up with it perfectly.

A gunshot from outside. Him immediately on his feet, rushing out with gun drawn, and the Loth-Cat bounding alongside. An out of breath Omera running towards him with a panicked look. When she spoke was when everything froze.

“The Child.”

That was all she managed to get out before he was running, sprinting in the direction of the shot. The kid was in danger. No, not the kid. _His_ kid. His _Ad’ika_. What had he been thinking, leaving it alone? He never should have left it unguarded. Hadn’t he learned his lesson when the first bounty hunter came through?

He reached the edge of the village and stopped. It took him a moment to register what was in front of him. 

Tables from the Longhall had been moved out into a clear spot at the edge of the village. Posts made from tree trunks rose high in the air, jars of bioluminescent krill hanging from hooks and casting a soft glow on everything. Food and spotchka was set up all along one of the tables, filling the air with a delicious aroma, and the villagers were all gathered around. In the middle of it all was the Child, grinning and babbling, reaching out his little arms towards the Mandalorian. Towards Dyn.

“Vi vor’e gar!” The villagers shouted it in unison, and some music started up. Dyn could barely register the small group of villagers playing a joyful tune at the edge of the party. He stood in frozen shock, even as the Loth-Cat ran up to join the festivities.

Omera came up alongside him. “Everyone here loves you. The Child loves you. I love you. You’re not alone anymore, so don’t forget it.” She brushed a hand against his arm, before going over to join Winta.

Dyn smiled. Maybe fe could have family after all. He walked down to the party and scooped up the Child. Holding him close, he watched as the Child reached a clawed hand toward his helmet, and chirped something nonsensical. 

Dyn could be mad at them for tricking him later. For now, he was going to enjoy the party with his kid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mando’a Translations
> 
> Slana’pir - Get lost, go away (very harsh)
> 
> Beskar - Mandalorian armor
> 
> Vi vor’e gar - We thank you


	6. The Curse(word)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of the party shows Dyn that family may be closer than he thinks...
> 
> Cara Dune should always be kept occupied; she gets annoyingly mischievous if left to her own devices...
> 
> Also, the building of the hut has begun!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I’m not completely satisfied with this chapter, so I’m already working on another one to remedy it...
> 
> Also, exams are coming up which can mean one of two things. Either I’ll be a good child and study, or I will freak out, stress, and cope by writing more. Guess we’ll see soon!
> 
> As always, so grateful for the support! This series is the first personal writing I’ve ever shared with anyone (outside my cat), and all I’ve gotten is positive feedback! You guys are truly the best. 💜

Dyn looked around as the party came to an end. He honestly had no clue what to say. Throughout the whole time, villagers had been coming up to him between sessions of eating and chatting with friends to thank him for what he had done for their village. It was strange to say the least. He couldn’t remember a single time he had been genuinely thanked by someone before coming to this village. Of course, Cara Dune was getting a lot of attention as well, but the majority of the gratitude was aimed at him. 

Hearing a soft gurgle, he looked down at the Child whom he was currently holding in his arms. Giving a tired smile, it lifted a little hand to pat the edge of his helmet. 

“Yes, Ad’ika. We’ll go to bed soon.” He was still having trouble letting his emotions come through, but he found the Child had a way with making him smile. He decided not to be bothered by it. Instead, he began to scan the party for Cara. A question had been buzzing around his mind ever since the festivities had begun. 

Catching sight of her chatting with a group of villagers on the opposite side of the clearing, he began to make his way over. As he was walking, Caben and Stoke ran over to meet him. Or rather, Caben dragged Stoke over to meet him.

“Hey man!” Caben seemed a little tipsy as he hung off Stoke’s shoulder. “Really though, thanks for helping us! You and that fighter lady, taking out that giant walker. It was _awesome_ man!”

Stoke grinned and nodded his agreement. “Uh. Thanks, I guess.” Dyn looked up, trying to see if Cara was still there. He couldn’t see her.

“I mean, I don’t think I’ve _ever_ seen anything cooler. And all those _guns_ man! Where’d you get all ‘em anyway?” Caben continued talking, seeming not to notice Dyn’s discomfort. He probably couldn’t. Not many were perceptive enough to read him under all the armor. “Why do you need so many anyway? How many are there? Were they all destroyed when the wagon blew? Wait, who were the guys who destroyed the wagon anyway? That was so scary. But then you were like, ‘I got this’ and kicked all their butts man!”

“_Excuse_ me. If you don’t mind, we need to have a little chat. Resident hero to resident hero if you know what I mean.” Cara gave a wink to Caben, who immediately backed off.

“Oh, yeah, of course. You cool dudes gotta stick together I mean. Like me and Stoke! We stick together.” The two walked off, leaving Dyn and Cara alone. Finally.

“Thanks.” Dyn wasn’t quite sure what else to say. His mind was spinning too much to really process anything. Caben had talked so fast, question after question, and it was disorienting. “I was actually trying to head your way. Before...”

“Yeah, I figured as much. You looked like a lost porg wandering around out here, til you started heading my direction. Then you got caught up by those two, and I figured I should probably step in to help. Though it is fun watching you squirm. Don’t get out much, do you.” The last part was more of an amused statement than a question. She obviously knew the answer. “So, watch’ya wanna talk about?”

“I was wondering- uh, did you teach them that Mando’a phrase? I don’t know who else it could have been...”

“There’s more than me than you know Mando. I’ve picked up a thing of two here and there. I’ve met a few Mandalorians before, though none quite like you.” Cara continued before he could dwell on that last bit too much. “I do know a little Mando’a though most of the stuff you spew goes way over my head.”

“So you taught them to thank me in Mando’a?” There was something really nice about the thought of her caring enough to teach a whole village to thank him in his people’s language. It was weird.

Cara let out a huff of breath, looking away and taking a sip of spotchka. “That’s not the only thing I taught.” She muttered into her cup.

“What?”

“You’ll see.” And with that she was gone, disappearing into the crowd once more. _Suspicious_.

Before he could think too much of it, the Child gurgled in his arms. Glancing down at the droopy eyed baby, he decided to turn in for the night. It’d been a long day, and they could both use some rest. He would take some time to gather his thoughts in the morning.

Dyn woke to the sound of soft footsteps on the barn floor. Jerking up, he began to reach for the pulse rifle leaning against the wall next to him, before his eyes landed on the source of the noise. The Child had climbed out of its crib in order to follow the little Loth-Cat around. As it swished its fluffy tail, the Child would trundle along behind it, making grabby hands for the fluffy plumes of fur.

Looking up at him, the feline let out a soft _mrrrow_ before continuing the game of chase. Dyn sighed and put on his helmet. As he did so, his stomach rumbled loud enough to catch the attention of both cat and baby, causing him to realize he hadn’t eaten anything at all yesterday. He’d been too caught up with memories to even think about it. He glanced back down at the two babies on the floor. At their inquisitive gazes, he stood up.

“Guess we’re all getting something to eat this morning.” He strapped the pulse rifle to his back and checked his sidearm, heading towards the door. “Let’s go Ad’ika, Vaar’ika.”

They stepped out into the morning sunlight, and headed for the Longhall. Cat, baby, and Mandalorian. They probably made quite the amusing sight; the opposite affect he’d want on enemies, but oh well. Nothing he could do about it now. 

There weren’t many people in the Longhall when he walked in. They were probably all sleeping in after the night’s festivities. Thinking back to the previous night, he had an overwhelming feeling of embarrassment followed closely by a warmth he had yet to learn the meaning of. He didn’t quite like being the center of attention, but the fact that the whole village had stepped up just to make him feel better... It was strange, to say the least.

As he led the Child and Loth-Cat to their normal table in the back, he realized that some kind-hearted soul had moved some of the tables back in so there would be someplace to sit for breakfast. He made a mental note to make sure he helped with the rest of them later.

Lifting the Child onto a seat, he glanced around once more. There was a single fire pit going, and he wandered over to see what there was to eat. It certainly smelled delicious, even through the helmet. Then again, any food sounded good to him right now. There was a thin stone slab over the fire, and on top was about a dozen biscuits on one side, and some sort of meat on the other. 

Looking around, he saw most people in the room were already eating, so he figured it was fine to take. Grabbing two plates, for himself and the kid, and the Loth-Cats little bowl, he filled them up. As he reached the table, the Child made grabby hands at the food. 

“Here you go.” He set the food in front of the two, and they began to eat. Now he had another problem. Looking around with uncertainty, he wondered if anyone would be willing to watch the Child while he left to eat. He hadn’t thought this far ahead. He couldn’t eat in here, but the Child was already situated. He didn’t want to make it stop just so they could move to the dark, dirty barn to continue their meal.

As if on cue, a kind-faced woman came up beside him. “Hello, my name is Aishah. I noticed you have a plate for yourself. Do you need me to watch your boy?”

Dyn felt momentarily surprised that she noticed, before brushing it off. He had seen the woman around the village before, and he was pretty sure her son was one of the children that liked to play with the Child. Of course she would take the care to notice the man whose child her son played with.

“That would be very nice, thank you.” His response was a little awkward, but then, when wasn’t he? As Cara liked to point out, he had to work on his people skills.

The woman smiled kindly, and sat down opposite the Child. It looked up at her and grinned, before turning to Dyn.

“I’ll be back.” He replied. “Enjoy your food, Ad’ika.”

He left and returned to the barn to enjoy his own meal in peace.

It was a little past noon, and he and Cara were outside her hut. The Child was off playing with the other children, and Vaar’ika was out doing who knows what. Probably catching a frog, something it and the Child seemed to have in common.

As Cara sat in her chair sipping spotchka, Dyn leaned back against the door frame. Shutting his eyes, he leaned his head back and pretended he could feel the warmth of the sun on his skin. It was difficult to imagine. He hadn’t been outside without his armor in who knows how long, for fear of being seen.

“Thank you again. For the party, I mean.” He spoke quietly, still not quite sure how to process the whole thing.

“Oh, you won’t be for long.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asked, lifting his head to look at Cara.

“Nothing.”

Letting out a disbelieving grunt, he looked to the left, where he could hear footsteps approaching. Omera walked up to them, giving both a warm smile. 

“And how are our town heroes doing on this fine day?” She teased, standing beside the two. Dyn looked at the clear sky, and inhaled deeply. There were some flowers growing nearby that smelled wonderful this time of year.

At that moment, Winta ran up, holding the Child in her arms. “_Rangir_!” She shouted cheerfully as they ran by.

Dyn choked on the air he had just sucked in. Cara began laughing hysterically. Omera looked between the two of them, concern for the choking Mandalorian and suspicion warring across her face. As Dyn doubled over in a coughing fit, Cara tried to take some calming breaths.

“That was— that was too priceless.” She managed to wheeze. 

“Why? _What_ does it mean.” Omera demanded, looking between the two. Dyn was still having a difficult time breathing. He was so dead.

“Sounded like Mando’a to me.” Cara replied, a devilish glint in her eyes. Turning towards Dyn, Omera gave him the deadliest glare he had ever seen. If he weren’t such a proud Mandalorian, he would have cowered beneath that gaze.

“It means—uh, to h*ll with it?” He slowly replied, bracing himself for the explosion to follow.

“_What_?” Dyn remembered a time when Winta had cowered behind his cloak as Omera stormed into the Longhall, and he wondered how scary she could really be when mad. _Well, I’ve got my answer now,_ he thought.

“It wasn’t me! I haven’t used that language in front of them! I think...”

“What do you mean, you _think_?” Omera was furious. Cara was positively howling with laughter.

“I don’t know, sometimes it just slips out! Wait-” Dyn looked at Cara. He thought back to the previous night, to her muttered, ‘that’s not the only thing I taught them’ and to this afternoon’s ‘you won’t be for long’. “_Wait_ a minute. _You_. You dirty little, backstabbing, _drop trooper_.” 

He moved to stand menacingly in front of Cara, who was busy wiping tears from her eyes. “Oh, you should have seen your face.”

Dyn huffed inside his helmet. There was only one way to teach this particular soldier. She seemed to require hands-on interaction to even bother trying to learn something. Well, she needed to learn not to mess with a Mandalorian, and he was perfectly qualified to teach that.

Lunging forward, he grabbed the edge of her chair and tipped it over, sending her tumbling off the porch. Grabbing his shoulder, she dragged him with her, and the two went tumbling down into a rolling, tussling heap in the dirt. 

“Hey! This is what you get for spilling my spotchka!” She got back up, and tackled him to the ground. With a grunt, he hoisted her up and flipped them over, pinning her with a knee on her stomach.

“Don’t mess with a Mandalorian.”

“I mess with whoever I want, be it a Mandalorian or Jedi Knight.” She kneed him in the stomach, and they went back to their wrestling match. 

“_Enough_! Honestly, it’s like I’m dealing with the children right now. Just more dense.” The two broke apart as Omera stormed over. “I’m going to let it go for now, but if I hear any more cuss words, different language or not, you’re both going down.”

And with that, she walked off. The two fighters shared a look, before simultaneously snorting in amusement.

The two warriors had steered clear of her for the rest of the day, and for good reason. Omera was not going to put up with any foul language coming from the children. After calmly explaining to the village kids that, _no, they can’t say it anymore, because she said so_, she went about her chores for the day. As she worked, she couldn’t help but think back on the ‘play’ fight. As annoyed as she was, it was hilarious to see two trained fighters wrestling, and she was incredibly relieved to see Dyn rolling on the ground having fun. She had been incredibly worried he’d never get back to his kind, caring self after his behavior the previous day.

She still had no clue what had brought about the change of mood, and that worried her. What if it was something that happened in the village? What if they accidentally triggered it again? She was powerless to know how to prevent it. But as much as she worried, she couldn’t bring herself to ask him. It seemed like an invasion of privacy and besides, what if that caused it to happen again? No, she’d leave it be. If there was another incident, then she’d address it.

As she was going about her chores the following day, she caught sight of a flash of silver in the sunlight. Dyn was walking around the edge of the village, as if searching for something. The ever-present Loth-Cat was perched on his shoulder, ears twitching and tail swishing. She fought down her amusement, thinking back to when she had found the Mandalorian lying on the floor of the barn. _Friends can be found in the most unlikely of places, I suppose._

Shaking her head, she turned back to her work. She still had laundry to do, dishes to clean, and krill to harvest. Then there were the usual day-to-day challenges of motherhood. She loved Winta, but that child was as mischievous as they come. Throw a big-eared green baby into the mix, and it multiplied ten-fold. In other words, she had a lot of work to do. 

It was nearing dusk, and Omera was slowly making her way back to her hut. She had sent Winta and the Child back not too long ago, while she finished her round of dishes. As she walked, she looked up to find the Mandalorian still outside, in the same place. However, this time there was the beginnings of a strange looking structure set up where he was working.

Making a split second decision, she changed course and began to venture over. As she neared, she realized the structure she had seen was the beginnings of a hut. With the dusk rapidly turning to night, she hadn’t been able to make it out in the darkness. 

“Hello.” She said as she walked up; she doubted she could really sneak up on him, but after he had pulled a gun on Cara she didn’t want to risk it... she knew he wasn’t in his right mind at the time (or maybe that was his right state of mind and the peaceful Mandalorian she knew was his wrong state of mind; she decided not to dwell on it) but she still couldn’t shake the memory.

He glanced silently towards her, although it wasn’t an uncomfortable quiet. More of an unspoken ‘welcome’ quiet. However, she had a feeling he knew exactly what she was thinking, and she felt a little guilty about it.

She walked around, taking In the building. He was making good progress. It was simple and small, and looked exactly like all the other huts, though she didn’t know what else she would have expected. As if sensing her thoughts, he spoke.

“If anyone were to attack, this would look like a normal hut. They would most likely come in through there,” he pointed to an area between some krill ponds. The walk space between ponds was a little wider than the others. “So I would be at the brunt of the attack, ready to defend. It’s close enough to the other huts that they can be used for further shelter, yet far enough away that fires won’t spread between them. There will be more advantages of course, but those are the more strategical-placement based defenses.”

Omera glanced over at him, finding he was already giving her that ever-calm stare through his helmet’s visor. The calmness with which his modulated voice spoke of himself being put into the most danger was proof of the warrior he was. But the thing that brought a slight, upward curve to her lips was how he automatically planned to place himself between the village and danger. She was terrified of the thought of losing him, but the idea that he’d so readily give himself to protect her people was warming. 

The Mandalorian shifted uncomfortably under her gaze, and she realized she’d gotten caught up in her thoughts. Embarrassment flooded her body. She must’ve looked like a fool, silently staring at him with a dopey grin on her face.

As she felt her cheeks flush red, she silently thanked the stars it was so dark out. “Well, good night. Make sure you get some sleep.”

Dyn nodded once in response, and she turned to head back to her hut. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mando’a Translations:
> 
> Ad’ika - Little one
> 
> Vaar’ika - pip-squeak, runt
> 
> Rangir - to heck with it


	7. The Run-In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dyn has finished his hut, complete with defense systems, storage room, and Loth-Cat platforms. However, the next task may prove more difficult, as he runs into trouble whilst searching for parts...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I have a rough idea for where i want the next couple of chapters to go... i’m Just struggling to figure out how to write them. Stress and lack of sleep from lots of homework and final exams isn’t helping, so there may not be as many updates... We’ll see I suppose. I hope y’all enjoy!

Dyn stepped back and admired his handiwork. The hut was made the same way as the others in the village, but his had a few pre-planned strategical defense systems. For one, the placement. His hut would be the first in line if there were to be a raid or other attack, so he would quickly be able to assess the situation and join the fight. A few well placed ‘knotholes’ were the perfect size to stick the end of a gun through, for secretly picking off attackers, and there was a hidden trapdoor that led to a cellar in which he stored the rest of his remaining supplies. He’d have to see what all he had left on the _Razor Crest_, and gather what he needed from the village soon.

With all of his guns, explosives, etc. stashed in the hidden compartment beneath his hut, the inside was pretty bare. He didn’t have many belongings, so other than the cot, crib, and blankets brought over from the barn... Well, it was empty.

Dyn himself wasn’t too bothered by it, but the Child seemed to disagree. It would look around the barren hut before wrinkling it’s nose with a pointed look. The Loth-Cat seemed to agree. It spent way more time out of the hut then in it, always leaping off Dyn’s shoulder before he went inside. 

Well, he could probably fix that. He thought he remembered Loth-Cats preferring to have places they could hide, and high spots they could survey their territory from. It made sense—with all the large rock formations in Lothal mixed with the vast expanse of plains, there would be plenty of caverns, and standing on a rocky ledge would give a wide view for miles. Dyn gave a sigh. Time to get back to work then.

Omera watched as Winta raced over to Aishah and her boy, Aariz, Child in arms. She smiled gently as Winta set down the Child, and the three began to play. She trusted Aishah to watch over the children, so she continued on her way. 

As she reached the Mandalorian’s new hut, she could hear the sound of hammering. _That’s odd. I thought he’d finished already._

Walking in, she had to hold back her laughter. The proud, Mandalorian warrior was hammering small platforms and little wooden box-like houses all over the barren walls. As she watched, the Loth-Cat ran out from one house onto the platform outside of it, and leapt straight across the room to the adjacent platform. It continued springing along till it reached another hut, quickly disappearing inside. 

Dyn, seemingly finished, stood back and admired his handiwork. “What do you think?” His voice was soft, and she realized he was asking her a question. She didn’t even know he had heard her come in. _Don’t be silly, of course he did! He always does..._

“I think it’s very... interesting. Vaar’ika certainly seems to love it.” An affirmative _mrrp_ sounded from inside the house it had last entered.

“Just trying to make it more comfortable for her. This way she’s got plenty of places to hide, and she can get up to the rafters of the ceiling. Unfortunately.”

“Unfortunately?” Omera wasn’t quite sure she followed that last part. As if in answer, the little feline sprang up and disappeared into the rafters. After a few moments of silence in which she couldn’t figure out where it had gone, it suddenly dropped; landing directly on the Mandalorian’s helmet, and causing him to let out a muffled oof.

Omera couldn’t help it. She positively burst out laughing as the disgruntled Mandalorian reached up to grab the Loth-Cat, who was currently struggling to get a grip on the smooth beskar of the helmet.

“That. That is why.” As she continued to laugh, Dyn let out an irritated huff. “Honestly, you’re as bad as Cara sometimes.”

Omera attempted to muffle her giggles behind a hand. It started up again as he lifted the Loth-Cat to his shoulder, allowing it to perch between his helmet and pauldron. It was such a ridiculous sight. 

“Yeah, laugh all you want now, but wait till it’s big.” He muttered.

“What, will it have to drape across both shoulders?” She asked in response, trying hard not to cackle at the image. She failed. Miserably.

“What? No— that’s, that’s not what I meant.” The flustered Mandalorian was probably on her top five list of most adorable things she’d ever seen. Behind Winta and the Child of course. “You know what? Whatever.” 

The cat let out a little _mrrow_, flicking its ears at her. She smiled even more.

Dyn thought back to his run in with Omera a few hours ago. As embarrassing as it was, he also couldn’t help but feel giddy inside at having been Omera’s reason to laugh. Even if it was at him. For now though, he had to focus on the task at hand. He had finally gotten to sorting out the remains of the wagon, trying to see what all could be salvaged, what they already had lying around, and what he’d need to get from town. The village used the wagon to haul their supplies to and from town, so he wanted to get it back up and running as soon as he could. With a mental list of the parts he needed, he set out to find Omera. 

As he walked through the village, the Child ran up to grab onto his leg. He kept walking. The Child squealed in delight as he was dragged around on the Mandalorian’s boot. A few passing villagers gave knowing smiles at the sight, perhaps remembering back when their own children were small enough to do such things. Or maybe they were pitying him for his sudden dead weight. He’d believe both.

He clomped over to Omera’s hut, Child swinging on his foot, and found her washing the laundry. She grinned at the sight of him and his kid, waving him towards a chair.

“I made a list of all the parts I need to get at the town.” He said, deciding to blatantly ignore the blurgg in the room. For some reason, Omera seemed to find this even more amusing. “I’ll leave soon, hopefully be back by nightfall.”

Apparently, this plan was not okay with the Child. It let out a short, loud wail, causing both him and Omera to jump and look down at him. When it got their attention, it turned its large, dark eyes to the Mandalorian and continued to babble.

“I think,” Omera began, “that he’d like to come with you.”

Dyn sighed. “I got that much.”

“Well, I guess I’ll go to then.” Dyn looked at her in surprise. “It’s a good opportunity to take Winta out. She’s been asking to return to the village since the last trip, and she does need to get to know the outside world more.”

Dyn gave a slow nod of his head. He supposed it wouldn’t hurt, especially if there were two adults to keep an eye on the kids this time. Besides, a large part of him yearned to take a trip to the town with Omera. Getting up, he went to get a sack for the supplies. 

The trip to town had been rather uneventful, mostly filled with the chittering of the Child and Winta’s excited explanations as she bounded ahead before being called back by her mother. Now that they were in town, the girl was much more subdued. However, there was no extinguishing that excited gleam in her eyes as she looked around at all the merchant stalls and buildings. The Child was now walking alongside her, holding her hand.

They had already eaten, so they immediately began to search among the booths for the correct parts. As they walked among the different buildings, Dyn got a faint, prickly feeling along his spine. Ever so subtly, he casually moved closer to the others, his hand resting by his side near his blaster.

“Let’s try here.” Dyn stopped by a stall on the edge of the town, where there were very few onlookers. It was mostly just them, and the merchant. Omera gave him a confused look. There were parts here, but not the ones they needed. He gave a subtle shake of his head, and began to sift through the products. “You can take the kids to get something to eat.” He said pointedly.

“Oh, that’s alright. They ate before we left.” Her response had an undertone of finality, and she gave him a look that said she was absolutely not leaving him. The last thing he wanted was for her and the children to get caught up in another one of his skirmishes, but there wasn’t anyway for him to convince her to leave without attracting to much attention. _Guess I just have to be extra careful._

He stayed on high alert as he continued to sift through items, occasionally asking the merchant clarifying questions, or getting Omera’s opinion on things. He could tell she was trying to stay on guard as well, but she didn’t have the same training or experience. The children seemed to know something was up by now as well, and stayed close to the adults as they worked. 

They continued this for a few minutes, until most of the other shoppers in the area had left, presumably to get something to eat. It was very quiet, and he couldn’t see anyone else around other than them and the merchant. He could tell it was setting Omera on edge, but he used it to his advantage. No people meant less witnesses for any attackers, but it also meant they wouldn’t be able to sneak up on him.

He caught a movement out the corner of his eye. He suspected Omera caught it as well, as she stiffened slightly beside him. Dyn forced his body to stay relaxed, feigning ignorance. A soft swish of clothing from behind, the delicate crackle of a dead leaf under a lightly treading boot...

In one swift movement, he had lifted his blaster from his side, and spun around, and directed his gun in the face of the person behind him; he heard Omera gasp in shock, and tuck the kids behind her. The person before him seemed to be a young man, possibly even still in his teens. They were wearing what seemed to be roughly crafted iron armor painted a void-like black, accented with a deep crimson color, almost like splatters of blood. Dark brown hair was stuck with sweat to a face twisted in fear and resentment.

“_Kyramud_.” They spat. 

They had drawn no weapon, but Dyn knew better than anyone how easily weapons can be concealed, and how quickly they can be drawn. He kept his blaster up, and prepared to use his flamethrower if necessary. When he spoke, he kept his voice emotionless like a Mandalorian bounty hunter should. Speaking of which, _he knows Mando’a... _“Do I know you?” 

“I expect you know of me, Mandalorian. Or else you wouldn’t be here. Now let’s get this over with, I’ll even give you first shot.” The teen (because Dyn was now sure it was not a man with a voice like that) rose his fists. _Is he serious right now?_

“I’m not sure I follow.” Beside him, Omera protectively shifted her body to fully block the children from view, even though the boy hadn’t so much as acknowledged their presence in any way. It’s always best to be prepared, after all.  
“Of course you do,” the teen said. To Dyn, they were obviously trying to mask their fear with smugness, but he could admit that their acting was believable. “You just don’t want to. Because the stories are fake. All you Mandalorians just hide behind the grand tales, in reality you’re all _hu’tuun_!”

In an instant, the Mandalorian inside of him snapped. In a flash, he had knocked the teen to the ground with a kick to the legs. The boy drew a blaster, aimed, and Dyn ripped it out of his hands, tossing it to the side. The teen’s fright now vibrantly shone through his previous arrogant facade, and rightly so as the Mandalorian towered above him, blaster aimed between his eyes.

“_Copaanir sirbur ibac tug’yc?_” His voice was low and deadly. To call someone a coward was the greatest insult imaginable to a Mandalorian; he had seen it lead to fights that ended in death before. It was not a word to be used lightly, and he would not tolerate it being used against _him_. Especially not by an obviously mentally unstable _kid_.

“_Mando_.” Omera spoke for the first time since the boy had appeared, using the general nickname of his people so as not to give the teen more information then needed. Upon noticing the terrified look of Winta behind her mother, along with the Child’s large eyes (should he be concerned the baby didn’t seem alarmed by this?) he immediately backed off. Holstering his blaster, yet not taking his hand away from it, he stepped back from the boy who continued to lay in shock.

“A bit of advice. Don’t come after a Mandalorian if you aren’t prepared to deal with the consequences. And I advise you to watch your tongue in the future.” His voice was no longer emotionless, but filled with a cold anger. The wide-eyed teen scrambled to his feet, brushing off the dust from his armor and trying, yet failing, to act brave.

The Child let out a cheerful coo, reaching toward the Mandalorian from Winta’s arms. In an instant, the teens entire demeanor changed from earlier’s arrogant resentment to one of wonder and fearful awe. Looking between the Child and Mandalorian, he began to speak.

“Y-you’re... I just.. I-” The boy seemed to be struggling to figure out what he wanted to stay. “Oh my stars... I just antagonized one of the most dangerous known bounty hunters... You’re the one who fought off an entire spaceport, aren’t you?!” 

Omera turned to give him a startled look. He hadn’t exactly told her how he’d come across the kid quite yet. Or what he’d done to rescue him. (Or that he’d temporarily given him up.) All she knew was that the kid had a bounty on his head, and that they came to Sorgon to lay low for a while. It was all she had asked. “I- uh...”

“How did you do it? No one seems to know how you escaped, did you have help? Was it hard? Were you injured?” The teen sent rapid-fire questions his direction, and Dyn was getting disoriented. The most he could make out was that the other Mandalorians had somehow managed to mask how he had escaped. Everything else went over his head.

Hadn’t this kid just been wanting to fight? Was this some sort of strange tactic to catch him off guard, or was this normal for people? Maybe he needed to take Cara up on her offer of ‘people lessons’. 

“Excuse me, weren’t you just literally asking for a fight?” Dyn couldn’t help it; he had to figure out what in the worlds was going on. Fortunately, Omera looked just as confused. So it wasn’t a normal thing, then. Maybe the kid had hit his head too hard?

“Oh, uh, yeah. About that. I may have thought you had a fob on me?” The teen now looked more sheepish than anything. However, he quickly brightened up. “But you have like, the highest bounty out there on your heads. So your not actively hunting me, ‘cause you’re the _hunted_. And if you’re here, this must be a good place to hide. So I should be safe too!” 

“Okay, first off, I’m never the _hunted_. I’m just laying low. Second of all, apparently this isn’t such a good place to hide because more than one person has thought to come here. In fact, it seems we’re up to at least three. Third, what _nibral_ openly challenges someone who they think has come to kill them, to a fight? Let alone a Mandalorian?” Dyn was getting truly frustrated with this kid. How dense could one person possibly be?

“I could have taken you. I have a few tricks up my sleeve.” The kid replied petulantly. 

“I’m sorry, did I cause you to hit your head too hard when I knocked you flat on your back?” Dyn was so done with the teen. First he comes out and insults him and his ways, then he reveals that, apparently he and the Child aren’t as safe as they thought here, and now he had the audacity to say he could take out a Mandalorian such as himself?

At his response, the kid seemed a bit peeved. “I can easily take care of myself.”

Dyn heard something shift behind him. From the edge of his visor, he saw the exact moment a rock lifted from the ground, and effortlessly shot it out of the air as it hurtled towards him. Without even turning to look. Winta let out a little squeak. The kid looked momentarily surprised, before a new determination crossed his face. 

Another rock came from the left, ending with the same result. Then another from the right. Then left again. All the while, the Mandalorian’s helmet never turned from the kids face. Upon hearing a piece from the booth shift behind him, Dyn waited till the last second to sidestep it. It flew straight into the teen’s stomach.

As they doubled over, Dyn finally spoke. “Force-sensitive or not, I could have incapacitated you twenty different ways by now. Killed you in ten. More if I get creative.” Dyn turned away, looking over his shoulder as he started to walk off to the side, where Omera had retreated with the kids. A safe distance from the flying objects, but close enough she could help. “Stay on this planet if you want, though I don’t advise it anymore. Stay away from me, stay away from my kid, and there hopefully won’t be any problems.”

“_Or_,” Dyn stopped and looked over his shoulder once more as the kid began to speak. “I go with you, you teach me to defend myself better, and I leave the planet for good.”

“No.”

“Come on. Please? It’s a great deal. All I need to know is how to defend myself better, and then I can return home. To my sister.” The teen’s voice had taken on a desperate plea. Dyn chose to ignore it. That is, until he looked up.

Omera was watching him with the biggest, saddest eyes he thought he’d ever seen. She could give the Child a run for his money if she wanted to. At the small shake of his head, the look only got more intense. It pulled st his heartstrings. He heaved a sigh, and turned back towards the teen.

“Alright kid. Here’s the deal. Two weeks. You help out with chores, and I’ll teach you. Yes?”

The kid grinned. “Deal.”

  
“Another refugee?” Cara Dune wore a concerned frown. “Maybe this planets isn’t as far off as we initially thought...”

Dyn sighed in agreement. He had filled Cara in on what had happened in town, and they were both becoming increasingly concerned with their predicament. Bounty hunters had been here before, and were certainly going to come back. Especially after what the kid had said about Dyn and the Child having such a large bounty on them.

“We’re going to have to be extra careful from now on. Maybe up the security around the perimeter of the village as well.”

Cara nodded in agreement. “We could put those walls back up. They weren’t the prettiest things in the world, but they certainly did their job. I’ll organize some of the villagers to help with it tomorrow, while you ‘train’ that kid. Speaking of which, where is he?”

“Barn.” He replied. The teen, Kharon, had been given the barn to stay in since Dyn, the Child, and Vaar’ika had moved out. He had immediately settled in, laying on the cot he’d been provided and falling asleep. “He obviously doesn’t know the first thing about survival.” He grumbled.

Cara let out a laugh. “Oh, I can’t wait to see how you cope with this.”

The answer was, not very well. With the remaining daylight, Dyn had decided to wake the kid up and see where his skill level rested. That way, he could have a training plan ready. The less time he had to spend on it, the better. However, after waking the grumbling kid and taking them to a more secluded area in the woods away from the village, he realized he was in further than he had bargained for. 

“Show me how you shoot.” He said, handing the teen a blaster rifle. He held it wrong. As in, how could anyone possibly think that’s how you hold a gun wrong.

“Please tell me your kidding.” He said, staring at the kid’s grip.

“Why? What’s wrong with it? Oh.” Dyn had stepped forward, moving the kid’s hands to the correct positions. Much better.

“_This_, is how you hold a gun. Now, am I to assume the kid who tried to pick a fight with a Mandalorian _doesn’t know how to shoot?_” He was beyond frustrated, and they had barely started.

“I have the force! I didn’t think I’d need to learn to shoot! Haven’t you heard those old stories about the Jedi? I figured lifting things with my mind would be enough!”

“You know what? Fine. We’ll save shooting for tomorrow, I don’t have the patience right now. Show me what you can do with this ‘force’ of yours.” Dyn stood to the side of the clearing, and waited for the teen to demonstrate. All he had seen so far was smaller objects thrown at him. He wanted to see if he could do anything bigger, more impressive. (A small part of him really wanted to know what all his kid might be able to do.)

As he watched, the Kharon closed his eyes to concentrate. Holding out a hand, his face scrunched up with thought. A decent sized rock slowly began to levitate before them. Dyn threw a rock. It bounced off the teen’s shoulder, causing him to yelp in pain as the rock he had levitated crashed to the ground. 

“What was that for?!” He looked angry. Dyn didn’t care.

“Haven’t you heard the stories of old? The Jedi were able to multitask with the force. If you’re planning on stopping bullets, kid, they’re gonna be coming from all around.” 

“I can barely lift a heavy rock, I’ll bet it takes years of training to become a Jedi!”

“Kid, I’ve seen a baby lift a fully grown Mudhorn. Buck up a little. Now stand in the center, let’s see what you can do.”

The rest of the training session consisted of lots of angry ‘ouch!’ and ‘hey!’s before they began to make their way back to the village. The farthest they’d managed to get was stopping three small stones at a time, while the fourth bounced of the teen’s chest.

Neither were in a good mood as they walked back. The teen was angry and sore, and the Mandalorian was irritated by all the grumbling. After all, the kid had asked for his help. He should be grateful he was doing this. As they reached the village, they silently parted ways to get settled in for bed.

The following morning found Dyn leaning against the inside doorway of his hut with a sigh. Omera stood from crouching next to Vaar’ika to look at him with a sympathetic smile. 

“I know it’s a bit much to ask of you, but it was the right thing to do.” She said.

“Doesn’t make it any less irritating.” He grunted. He was not looking forward to today’s training session. All he wanted to do right now was his usual village chores; helping out with dishes in the Longhall, fishing for krill with Omera, patrolling the forest, and watching the Child play with the other village kids. He closed his eyes and took a calming breath. Just two weeks...

He felt Omera’s presence as she came to stand before him. Opening his eyes, he took in her gentle smile, calm demeanor, and eyes filled with love. Love for the village, love for her work, love for Winta and the Child, love for... _dare he say him?_

Taking his helmet in her hands, she gently brought his head down so their foreheads were together. He felt like he could feel phantom hands gently cupping his cheeks, and wished he could remove his helmet for just a moment; if only he could feel her hands on his face for real.

“I know it’s hard now. But it’ll get better, I promise. Remember Vaar’ika?” Her smile turned a little teasing. “You two weren’t the best of friends at first either. I also heard you and Cara tried to fight each other off when you first met...”

“She told you about that?”

“She said she kicked your Mandalorian butt.”

“That is definitely not how it went.”

Omera let out a soft laugh. “Of course not. I figured as much. What I’m trying to get at, is maybe you’ll find he is a better student than you originally gave him credit for. Did you give him a fair chance?”

Dyn let out a small huff. “I suppose I could have been kinder...”

“There you go. I’m sure you’ll figure something out soon.” And with that, she placed a gentle kiss to his helmet, and walked out of the hut, leaving him to ponder in silence. Not only about the kid, but what his life would be like if he could live safely here. Safely here, with the Child, Winta, Vaar’ika, and Omera.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mando’a Translations: 
> 
> Kyramud - Killer
> 
> Hu’tuun - coward (incredibly offensive to Mandalorians)
> 
> Copaanir sirbur ibac tug’yc - Want to say that again?
> 
> Nibral - loser, failure


	8. The Responsibility

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The training begins, and the Mandalorian has to learn to work with a student! Luckily, he has a bit of help.
> 
> Omera decides she’s had enough. She wants to be able to allow the Mandalorian to at least have someone he can talk to, or go to if he needs help. People can’t go through life alone...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so we’re going to get more background on Kharon soon, including how he knows Mando’a. This chapter might be a bit choppy, I have so much to do, and so little sleep to do it with. My thoughts are a bit jumbled. I don’t think I’ll have another chapter up tomorrow, but we’ll see. Anyway, I hope y’all enjoy!

Dyn strode towards the woods. He had once again left the Child with Omera, and was on his way to begin another training session with his new...foundling? He supposed that was the best word to describe him. After all, could a non-force-sensitive person have a padawan? He didn’t think so.

He reached the meeting point, walking with deliberately audible footsteps. Upon arrival, he found the teen already there sitting on the large rock he had attempted to lift the night before. Seeing Dyn arrive, he stood up. _He’s slow to notice things. He should have heard me long before he saw me. Guess we’ll work on observation today._

“All right kid. Let’s get some things straight. You have no experience as a fighter, I have no experience as a mentor. You do your best, and I’ll do mine, you’ll learn what you need to know, and you can go back to your family. Deal?” The teen eagerly shook his head, all irritation from the previous night erased. “Good. You’re officially my first _actual_ foundling.”

“Actual?” So the kid couldn’t hear a person walking up to them through the woods, but they could pick out a single word from a sentence for clarification. Oh well.

“There’s two others I consider foundlings of sorts. You’re just the first I’ll actually be teaching. Speaking of which, here’s your first lesson.” The teen stood straighter. Whether he was trying to look important, worthy, or something else, the Mandalorian didn’t know. He did, however, almost feel bad for the task he was about to give. _Almost_.

“Here you go.” He held out a single piece of paper. The kid looked at it dubiously, as if he were trying to decide whether it was a joke. The list of parts it contained were written in glowing blue ink made from the bioluminescent krill, and given to Dyn by Winta. “You interrupted my supply run yesterday. You can pick it up now.”

“This is what you call trying your best? You’re not even teaching me anything, you’re giving me your chores!” The teen was getting angrier by the minute.

“If you can’t accomplish a simple task such as this, you don’t deserve to be trained by a Mandalorian. Now are you going or not? Maybe if you quickly enough, we’ll have time for blaster training.” 

The teen sent him a glare before tucking the list into a pocket and heading towards the village. Dyn waited for a short time, before following at a distance. By the time he reached the village himself, he could see the kid making his way towards town with a sack for the supplies.

Walking towards his hut, he ran into Omera. “It’s not just a supply run, is it?” She asked, an amused yet suspicious tint to her voice.

“Is it ever?” Omera gave a smile at the reply, and walked to stand by Dyn as she watched him let out a sharp whistle. It sounded strange through the helmet, but it was a whistle nonetheless. Shoulder to shoulder, they glanced at the entrance to Dyn’s hut just in time to see two tan, pointed ears covered in dark swirls poke out and swivel around. Seeing them, the little Loth-Cat trotted over to sit in front of Dyn.

“Alright, let’s see how intelligent you felines really are.” He swore the cat’s big mouth was grinning at him as the cat let out an innocent _mrrp?_

Dyn ducked behind one of the buildings in the town, climbing a stack of barrels to crouch on the structure’s thatched roof. Vaar’ika nimbly leapt up beside him. Dyn scanned the lazy crowds below, stopping on a vaguely familiar shock of hair so dark brown it was almost black. 

“See that one there?” He felt ridiculous as he pointed out the teen to the cat, but it responded with a curious tilt of its head. He supposed that was a good sign; from what he knew, Loth-Cats were an incredibly intelligent species. If raised around people, some were reported to show signs of understanding and acknowledging basic language. He hoped it was true, or he might die of embarrassment. _Any Mandalorian with an ounce of dignity would_ not _sit on a roof talking to a Loth-Cat..._

As they watched, Kharon walked over to a merchant stall and set down the sack, beginning to rummage through the merchandise for the next item on the list. After a few minutes he found what he was looking for, payed the merchant, and set off for the next booth.

“Get ready.” Dyn felt the Loth-Cat’s muscles bunch in anticipation next to him as they watched the teen set down the bag once more. “Take something. _Go_.”

Vaar’ika sprang from the roof, lithe body easily bounding through the crowd. Dyn watched from the roof as the cat subtly ran underneath the booths table, and carefully began to drag a small item from the sack. Picking up the object in her teeth, she slid behind some nearby crates.

Kharon found the next item, handed the merchant some credits, and tucked it in the bag. Throwing it over his shoulder, he continued on.

Slipping out from behind the crates, Vaar’ika bounded back over to the hut Dyn was on, and climbed up next to him. She was still way smaller than the Loth-Cat Dyn had first seen on Sargon, and she had a much slimmer frame then most, so slipping undetected through the crowd was like child’s play. 

Trotting up to Dyn, she sat and tilted her head to the side. Held delicately in her large mouth was a box of bolts. Dyn patted her on the head. “Good kitty. Think we can try something a little bigger next?” 

At the affirmative sounding meow, he turned back to watch. If the kid was going down the list in order, he should have four more stops. As he stopped again, Vaar’ika dashed off. This time, she didn’t hesitate before dashing back and narrowly made it out of sight and up to the roof before he turned around. Dyn held out a hand, and she spat out a small battery cell.

“Guess that big mouth is good for something after all.” Turning back to to watch, he saw Kharon swing the bad over his shoulder once again. He looked confused for a second, giving the bag a little shake, but then he shrugged his shoulders and continued on. Dyn gave a heaving sigh, and Vaar’ika gave a plaintive meow. If he didn’t know better, Dyn would say she knew exactly what they were doing. Kharon reached the next booth, quickly purchasing the next item. He continued on before stopping once more.

“Last chance. Make it good.” Vaar’ika sprinted over to the sack once more, darted through the opening, and began to back out whilst dragging a large sheet of metal plating. As she got a good grip on it in her mouth and began to turn to run, Kharon saw her. 

“Hey!” He lunged for the cat, narrowly missing. She bounced out of the way, and started to sprint back towards Dyn’s hut. “Give that back!” The teen grabbed the sack, and began to give chase. Kharon followed her around the edge of the building, before coming to a halt. To him, she had seemingly vanished into thin air after rounding the corner.

Dyn patted her head as he sat looking down at the teen. If he reached out, he could brush his head. Instead, he waited for the kid to turn before dropping behind him. The kid spun around as Vaar’ika jumped to perch on Dyn’s shoulder, and his eyes widened in surprise. The Mandalorian silently reached up to take the metal from her mouth, before handing it back to the kid.

“First test was a fail. Looks like we’ve got a lot to work on.” He took the other two items from a side pocket, and held them out for the teen to put in the sack. 

“It was your cat? Why did you have it do that?” The kid seemed more confused than irked, which Dyn supposed was a good sign. He wasn’t as quick to anger as before. 

“Testing you observation skills. Each time you didn’t notice something was gone, we upped the anti. Vaar’ika three, kid zero. Better work hard in training, don’t want to be beaten by a Loth-Cat do ya?” 

“I didn’t know that was a lesson! Besides, when did you say it was a competition?!”

“Everything is a lesson, and everything is a competition. That’s just how life works, kid. Now let’s get back before it’s dark.” Vaar’ika pounced from Dyn’s shoulder, causing Kharon to drop the sack. Grabbing the box of bolts, she began to race off towards the village. 

Kharon began to give chase, and Dyn held his breath. Would he pass the next test?

“Wait!” Kharon stopped, and turned around to go back to the village. “I gotta get the last item on the list!” He began to run back, but paused when Dyn called for him. “Yeah?”

“Vaar’ika three, kid one.” Kharon grinned, and ran to get the last of the supplies. 

After that, training went much smoother. Once they had gotten back to the village, they had sat down together to fix the wagon. The villagers had already built a wooden bed, but the droid’s cockpit had taken a blow as well. Dyn showed Kharon the inner workings and circuitry, and they worked together to replace the metal plating of one side of the droid. Luckily, it hadn’t been to badly damaged in the explosion. Most of its circuitry was fine, it was mostly the outer shell that took a hit; thus the metal Vaar’ika had stolen from Kharon. 

After they were finished, the droid seemed to take a much better liking to Dyn then it had before. It didn’t like to go long distances, and had held a grudge against Dyn ever since it had to drive all the way to the _Razor Crest_ and back.

Later, Dyn and Kharon did more target practice, where the teen proved he could be a fast learner after all. He was soon a pretty decent shot, though he still wasn’t better than Omera, and nowhere near the skill level of Dyn himself.

“Not bad.” Dyn said after Kharon shot four targets in a row. “I’d say we can stop with that for now. Let’s see what we can do about that force of yours.”

“Do you know how to train me?” Kharon eyed him dubiously. After all. Dyn did not have the force himself, and knew little to nothing about it.

“No. But I have some ideas. The Force is all about concentration and focus, right?” At the affirmative nod, he continued. “So let’s see how well you multitask.”

They probably made an odd sight about 10 minutes later. The kid was singing a lullaby whilst levitating the same large rock as before, and catching stones tossed to him by the Mandalorian. Dyn has to admit, the kid was holding up quite well. Occasionally, Dyn would try tossing two stones at once; the kid was to catch one, and stop the other using the force. The first few times, he only managed to barely catch one stone, as the other hit him, causing him to lose concentration and drop the rock as well. Dyn was beginning to wonder if he was pushing the kid to far. Maybe this wasn’t even something you could do with the force. After all, Dyn knew little to nothing about it. However, about an hour and a half in, the kid finally managed to do it.

He had just closed his eyes. Dyn had decided to teach him a lesson about ‘sleeping on the job’ and threw two more stones into the mix. However, the kid automatically reached up with one hand, catching a stone, while the other stopped mere inches from his face. Opening his eyes, the kid stared in shock for a moment before both the levitating rock and stone went plummeting to the ground.

“I did it... I did it!” The teen was ecstatic. He looked to Dyn with wide eyes. Although he would never admit it, there was a look of disbelief plastered on his face beneath the helmet. He had not been expecting that particular outcome...

“Good job kid. That seems like a good stopping point. We’ll pick up training again tomorrow.”

Grinning, the teen followed him back to the village.

Omera watched as the two boys came back from their training session in the woods. She felt herself smile at the sight of them walking side by side. They weren’t quite close, not exactly, but they were obviously better than before. It was nice to see him giving the boy a chance.

As they reached the village, Kharon headed back for the barn. Omera had left a plate of food in there for him not long ago. As the Mandalorian headed for his hut, she moved to walk alongside him. 

“Your boy is inside, asleep.” She said. He didn’t say anything, but that was fine with her. He wasn’t much of a talker, and she respected that. It just made it all the more special when he was able to let go, when they were alone and were able to share a full on conversation. She smiled at the thought.

“You were right.” Dyn spoke as they reached his hut, his modulated voice softly caressing her ears. Oh, how she loved the sound of his voice. It was her ticket to his emotions, to what he was truly feeling behind all that armor. She could be imagining it, but she liked to think it was warmer when she spoke to him, filled with something..._more_.

“You’re going to have to be more specific.” She replied. “I’m right about a lot of things.”

He gave a low huff, a light, modulated burst of air from inside the helmet. “I meant about the kid. He’s a quick learner. Not observant, but smart. He can already shoot, and his skills with the Force are getting better.”

“So, what I’m hearing is you like the boy. I knew you’d get along.” She teased him, knowing he’d take it well. She suspected he actually did like the boy now that he’d begun to get to know him. Even if he didn’t like to show it. 

There were many things about her Mandalorian she had yet to understand. The way he pretended not to care, even when it was apparent to those that knew him well enough that he did. The way he always, always knew what was going on around him, whether he could see it or not. His silence, and his discomfort at being close to others, as well as his awkwardness when spoken to. The way he would flinch away from sudden movements, hand subtly moving closer to his sidearm. 

She knew these were all most likely things he had picked up as a bounty hunter. It made sense after all. However, they were all also habits that she intended to break. She wanted the Mandalorian to be able to feel loved, to feel as though he could trust those around him. It had to be exhausting to always be on such high guard, and she couldn’t imagine how awful it would be to not have any close family to be with... she wanted him to be able to relax, to love, to be Dyn.

As they bid ‘good night’ and Dyn went into his hut, she began the short trek back to her own home. As she stepped inside, she felt herself be filled with a new resolve. Let the taming of the Mandalorian _begin_. 


	9. Trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Omera begins her first attempt to show the Mandalorian what it is to be loved.
> 
> Kharon reveals his backstory, and the Mandalorian learns that there are people around him that accept him, and want to be with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here’s another quick chapter! I know there’s been a distinct lack of updates, and I apologize, but I need to study! I also, needed a break from studying, so I wrote this real quick. It may be a bit choppy, it, uh, may or may not be past midnight right now...
> 
> Welp, enjoy the chapter! :)

Omera found the Mandalorian bright and early the next morning, leaning against the outside of his hut. Walking up, she couldn’t help but admire the way the sunlight bounced off the gleaming beskar. He was a formidable sight; an armored warrior, always at the ready with his shining beskar and a pulse rifle strapped to his back. However, his intimidating look no longer fooled her. She now knew that it was more of a mask then anything. Everything he did seemed like a mask made to cover up the gentle, loving being hidden beneath it all. 

He turned his head to regard her as she walked up. “Hello. May I help you with something?” 

She internally sighed. Of course the thoughtful lug would think she was coming to ask for something. And of course he would be right.

“As a matter of fact, yes.” He startled as she grabbed his arm and turned, successfully dragging him away from his post and towards her own hut. She smiled to herself as she pulled him easily across the village and to her hut. She suspected he wasn’t really trying to resist.

As they stepped inside, they were met by Winta and the Child who were sitting on one of the cots. Winta gave a cheerful smile before turning to whisper to the Child, who giggled happily beside her. She released the Mandalorian, and watched as he looked around. She automatically tried to imagine the bemused look on his face, which was rather difficult for obvious reasons. _I wonder what he looks like under all that armor... is his face as kind as I imagine? Is he very expressive under that armor, or is he as stoic as the faceplate he hides behind?_

“Why am I here?” His soft, modulated voice broke her out of her trance. That’s right. She had a mission to attend to. Truth be told, Omera really had no clue what she was doing. All she knew was that she wanted Dyn to learn he can be loved, and what better way than some quality time with those who love him most? She internally sighed as she hoped her plans didn’t blow up in her face.

“Well, if you recall, you did Winta’s hair a while back. It was a good try, but it was a bit... messy.”

“Excuse me, I think you may be remembering incorrectly. I did an amazing job.” Even through his helmet, his voice sounded petulant. Winta smothered a giggle behind her hands as he crossed his arms in front of his chest.

“Hmm. I see. Well, let’s see if I can teach you how to properly do a ladies hair. We don’t want another ‘amazing’ mess up, do we?” She gave him a smile, even as he turned his head to stare her down. She ignored the glare she felt on her, and moved to sit behind Winta. “Shall we?”

With an audible sigh, Dyn moved to sit beside her. Winta turned to give them a better vantage point to do her hair, and began teaching the Child a clapping game that the village children often did together.

“Alright, so first, your going to gather some hair from the side, here...” The Mandalorian watched with rapt attention as Omera guided him through the steps of a waterfall braid. Winta sat patiently as Omera undid the progress she made, and turned to Dyn. “Let’s see you try.”

Dyn looked at her for a moment before awkwardly taking some strands of hair. He began to braid, going off what Omera had shown him. It was obvious he was doing his best to be gentle, not wanting to tug too hard. Omera felt her heart melt a little at the thought before quickly shaking it off, once again focusing on Winta’s hair. She nearly laughed out loud as Dyn fumbled a bit with his grip, and lost track of what he was doing. She could almost feel his hopelessness as he stared at the hair, trying to figure out what step he was on.

“Here,” Omera reached over, amusement lacing her tone. “Let me help.”

She gently guided the Mandalorian through the motions, delighting in the fact that he was willing to sit down and braid her child’s hair with her. As they worked, she felt the tension in his shoulders gradually begin to drain away. It never completely left him, but it was progress. She let their shoulders brush the slightest bit while she reached over to correct another of his mistakes, and he didn’t pull away. She considered it a success. 

Dyn walked towards the woods, on his way to meet Kharon at their designated training area. It was the kid’s third day of training, but it felt like they’d been working with each other for weeks. It was a strange and unsettling feeling, to be so close to a foundling of his own —he had hated the kid not three days ago for star’s sake! — but it wasn’t entirely unwelcome. It was... nice, to be able to share something with someone else. The kid was growing on him more than he cared to admit.

Reaching the clearing, he saw Kharon was already there. As usual, he was sitting on the large rock that he practiced the Force with, but this time he was petting something beside him. Upon closer inspection, Dyn recognized the pretty coat pattern of Vaar’ika winding her thin frame around Kharon’s legs as she asked for pats. Kharon gently stroked her head, murmuring something to her in a low voice.

“Ready for training?” Kharon looked up as Dyn walked into the clearing. “Figured we can work on hand-to-hand today.”

“Absolutely!” The kid stood, giving the Loth-Cat one last Pat on the head. Vaar’ika stretched before bounding to the edge of the clearing, nestling down amongst the roots of a large tree to spectate. “Let’s go!”

Dyn set his pulse rifle against a tree, and trainer and trainee squared up. Each assumed a fighting stance, Kharon going defensive, while Dyn settled on offensive. “Feel free to use the Force to your advantage. And for the heck of it, the cat can help you.”

Kharon grinned and glanced at the Loth-Cat, who let out a _mrrrp_ as she settled down. “Alright. Teach me the ways of the fight, my non-Jedi master. Three, _twoonego_!” 

Dyn let out a huff at the kid’s antics, before quickly sidestepping a rock that was flung towards him. Kharon sucked down as Dyn feigned a swing at his head, only to have his feet knocked out from under him by a swift kick. Scrambling to the side, the kid dodged the next attack, before hurling two kore rocks. While Dyn dodged his attacks, he quickly jumped back to his feet.

“You’re improving, but you still forget to watch your back.” Kharon spun around, only to be knocked forward by a blow from behind. “Can’t believe you actually fell for that one kid.”

“Hey! That’s not fair, of course I looked! For all I knew, you coulda had some hidden trap set up that was about to knock me out. Round two?”

Dyn sighed before helping the teen up. “Fine. Don’t fall for any more stupid tricks though please. For my sanity’s sake.”

Kharon rolled his eyes as he walked back over to his spot. “Who knew Mandalorians were secretly such jokesters?”

“Who said I was joking?” Dyn lunged forwards, and Kharon let out a yelp of surprise as he ducked away.

“I wasn’t ready! You didn’t say go!”

“I’m sorry, do your enemies usually warn you?” Dyn took another swing, doubled with a kick to Kharon’s legs. The kid quickly dodged, spinning behind him to try and get a blow in himself. _Good. He’s learning._

Dodging another flying rock, Dyn ducked a swing from the kid and grabbed his arm. With a swift movement, he flipped the kid onto his back, and stood over him. “Surrender?”

“Never.” Looking over Dyn’s shoulder, the kid grinned. A small, but solid force slammed into Dyn’s back. Stumbling from the sudden force, he tried to regain his balance, only to be knocked over by several flying rocks. The weight left his back while he fell, and he looked up to see Vaar’ika leap onto Kharon’s shoulders. 

Dyn gently rolled over and sat up, glaring at the cat. “Traitor.”

“Mirdala.” Kharon said to the Loth-Cat as he affectionately scratched its chin. It let out a satisfied purr.

Dyn slowly stood, stretching out the kinks in his back. He regarded the teen curiously for a moment. “I’ve been meaning to ask. How’d you come to learn Mando’a? You’re obviously not a Mandalorian yourself.”

The kid turned toward him, a slight frown on his face as his eyes got a distant look. For a few moments, Dyn thought he wasn’t going to answer. However, the teen shook off whatever thoughts or memories that had been plaguing him, and sat down against a tree. Dyn followed suit, and sat with his back leaning on the tree across from his foundling.

“My dad.” The teen said. “His best friend was a Mando that was taken in when they were kids. They had known each other all their lives, but our world suffered from some sort of plague. Both of his friend’s parents died to the sickness... A group of Mandalorian found him and took him in. They didn’t see each other for a while, but his friend came back. My dad told me that the Mandalorian’s hideout was nearby, and his friend snuck out every week to visit him. He taught my dad Mando’a.

“They continued to meet, even as my dad’s friend began to grow colder, more distant over the years. By the time they were adults, his friend rarely visited anymore, but he still came. My dad taught me and my sister Mando’a, he said it was good to know the language of a friend. But when I was about 11, my dad began to speak out against the empire. He hated what they did, and he spoke for peace, he wanted to give hope. He wanted a better life for me and my little sister. The imperials put a bounty on his head....”

Kharon stopped, taking a deep breath. Dyn could see tears glistening in his eyes, and felt a strange need to comfort the kid. He hadn’t realized he was going to get a full backstory with the question, and he almost felt bad for asking. His curiosity got the better of him though... he still wanted to know what had happened. Why was the kid here if he had a family?

“The- the one who killed him... who took him in for the bounty.. it was his best friend. His own best friend betrayed him for money!” Dyn could feel the anger flowing from the kid, the hatred for what had been done. Vaar’ika let out a concerned meow, and Kharon took a deep breath. Petting the Loth-Cat on the head, he continued. “I took care of my sister after that. I made sure to continue teaching her Mando’a... but I told her it was good to know the language of an enemy. I took care of her for the following years but...” the kid rubbed the back of his neck with a hand, suddenly looking a bit sheepish. “I may have ticked off a few people recently?”

Dyn leveled the kid with a stare. What could he have possibly done to make him need to leave his sister and hide away on another planet?

“Ahh, I may have used the force to levitate a few live grenades into an old imperial base...”

“You did _what?_”

“Who knew someone would still get mad about that, right? Anyway, I got a bounty put on me, hid my sister away with some trusted friends, and hidden on a smugglers ship that wound up here.”

Dyn started at the kid in silent shock for a few moments, before deciding he couldn’t judge. He’d done plenty of questionable things in his lifetime, one of which was _quite_ recent... speaking of which...

“Welp, I told you my backstory. Mind letting me in on why your here?” The teen was obviously trying to shake off his lingering sadness, and Dyn couldn’t find it in himself to refuse. It was about time he told _somebody_ after all. Even if that somebody was his new foundling.

Sighing once more, he leaned his head back until his helmet touched the tree. “Took a job to hunt someone down for a bounty. Practically no information on the target, but it had the largest reward in the parsec. And I needed the money.” Dyn chose to ignore the shadowed look that briefly passed over Kharon’s face — the kid was undoubtedly thinking of the bounty on his own father. “Eventually found the target. It was a child, baby even.”

Kharon looked startled at that. “A baby? So the baby in the village? The one that everyone who’s seen you reported you being with?”

Dyn’s only reply was a nod. “Does that mean you just, like, took him and ran off? Good for you! Who would want to put a bounty on a kid?” The kid was obviously disgusted at the prospect. It made Dyn even more disgusted with himself.

“I turned him in.”

Kharon froze. “You- you what?”

“I turned him in. Brought him to the client. Took the money. Gave him up.”

“What? _Why!?_” The kid was angry once again, confusion, shock, and disgust warring across his face.

Dyn suddenly felt tired, more tired than usual. “It was what I was trained to do. It was what I knew. It was the Way.” 

“Why did you go back then? You had your money. If that was all you wanted, then why did you go back?” The teen was obviously trying to hold it together. He had trusted Dyn, even after what had happened to his father. And now he learned that he had taken a bounty for a child. 

“I.. don’t know.” It was an honest answer. Dyn had no clue what had persuaded him to return for the Child. He was just glad he had. “It just felt... wrong. Like it wasn’t the Way I had wanted to follow. I tried to leave but... I couldn’t. So I went back. I got the kid, killed anyone who tried to stop me. My guild, they tried to stop me. Every one of them had had a fob on the kid. They all came to get it for another reward.”

“That’s when you fought the spaceport.” The teen said, understanding dawning on his face. “So how’d you escape then?”

Dyn thought for a second, before deciding against telling about his clan’s intervention. He didn’t want to reveal their secrets, even if the kid wouldn’t do anything with them. Even though they had relocated. Dyn felt a small, unfamiliar twinge at the thought that he no longer knew the whereabouts of his clan. He shrugged it off.

“I shot my way through some of them, ran to my ship. Took off with the kid, and came here.”

The teen seemed to accept this answer, absentmindedly scratching Vaar’ika behind the ears as he thought. “You’re not a bad person. Not like my dad’s friend. He changed for the worse. It seems like you changed for the better.”

Kharon looked straight at Dyn, and he almost felt as if he could see through the visor. “I trust you to train me.”

Dyn wasn’t sure what to think about the kid’s confidence in him. It was... different. He wasn’t used to people trusting him to stand near them without some ulterior motive, let alone to confide in him, or have him train them. This planet was really messing with his mindset. First Omera with her gentle smiles and kind actions, then Cara and her carefree steadfastness, Winta and the other village children welcoming his kid and giving it people to play with... and now this teen. So easily trusting him, asking him to train him. Even though he had a bad history with Mandalorians, he still wanted to be Dyn’s foundling. It was a good feeling to be wanted. Trusted. _Cared for._

Dyn suspected it wouldn’t last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mando’a Translations
> 
> Mirdala - clever, intelligent


	10. The Padawan-Foundling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More training, more love! Mando isn’t going to be able to let go of these attachments, is he...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry to anyone still reading this! I know, I know, I promised to write more over Christmas break, but then everything was hectic, and I had some family matters, and when I finally had time... I couldn’t motivate myself to get into it. I really wanted to write, but I couldn’t get into the feel. The last thing I wanted was to write some half-hearted attempt that didn’t work out and regret it later. Anyways, sorry for that! I’m finally back and am starting to get more of the plot figured out. I’m not the best at this ‘writing for other people’ thing.
> 
> Also, I wanted to straighten some things up with Kharon and family. Whilst re-reading to remember what I was doing, I realized I said Kharon was 15 when his dad began to speak against the empire. He was 11, and his sister was 7. As this was 2 years before the Empire’s fall, and there are 5 years between Episode VI and The Mandalorian, he is 18 and his sister is 14. I apologize for any confusion it may have caused! Anyways, I’ll let you get to the story now!

As the Mandalorian approached the designated training hollow, he was pleasantly surprised to see Kharon was in a defensive crouch, obviously trying his hardest to listen for his trainer. He was obviously on edge, the brutal yet effective Mandalorian training style doing its job. Din slowed slightly, and a hidden, more sadistic side of him whispered to hide, wait, let him fear the inevitable approach of his hidden enemy. However, as tempting as it was to give in and watch his foundling struggle (he knew it’s what his Cabur would have done) he couldn’t find it in himself to let the kid be paranoid any longer.

Instead, he waited for the teen to begin scanning the trees on the other side of the clearing before casually leaning up against a broad trunk on the edge of the clearing. The poor kid seemed like he was listening hard. They’d have to work on that.

“What are you doing?” 

At the sound of the modulated voice, Kharon leapt and spun, bringing his arms up to a defensive position before his eyes focused on the person in front of him. 

“Gar jate?”

Kharon sheepishly bowed his head, letting his arms drop back to his sides as a faint blush spread across his face. “‘Lek. So, uh. What are we doing today?” Kharon began to bounce on the balls of his feet, keeping his tone light in an obvious attempt to distract from his embarrassment. Din rolled his eyes and let it slide.

“Well, I’m obviously no Jedi.” Reaching down, he unsheathed two large vibroblades he had added to his belt that morning. “But I feel you wouldn’t be complete without some sort of laser-swordesque weapon. Not a lightsaber, but it’ll do for this.”

Kharon looked at him and back down at the offered vibroblade with absolute wonder. “Really? That’s so cool! Wait ‘til my sis here’s about this!”

“Yeah, well. I don’t know any ‘Jedi techniques’ but I can show you how to wield one like a Mandalorian.” He handed off the blade, giving Kharon a few minutes to swing it and get used to the grip and weight. “Alright, now back up. I’m going to show you some stances, and we’ll run through a few forms. _Padawan_.”

Kharon smirked as he got into position. “Yes, _Master_.”

  
The sun was high in the sky as the pair made their way back to the village. From the edge of his line of vision, Din could see Kharon as he closed his eyes, smiling as a soft breeze brushed his hair across his face. Briefly, he wondered what it would feel like on his own skin. _Weird. It would feel weird._

Shaking his head, he scanned the town. People were hard at work, weaving baskets, harvesting krill, washing dishes, doing laundry, repairing leaky roofs, and countless other chores that came with the day-to-day lives of the krill farmers. Children ran and played in the tall grass surrounding the ponds. As he walked, he allowed his mind to focus a little on them (he never let his mind wander from his surroundings completely) and his gaze found the Child and Winta amidst the rest of the children. They were all creeping around, seeming to be cautiously searching for something hidden in the reeds. As he watched, the Child stopped and closed his eyes, before slowly pointing into some grass. As he did so, a furry blur sprang from the hiding spot, tackling one of the nearby children to the ground. The Child opened his eyes and giggled as Vaar’ika sprang back into hiding.

“I’ve seen a baby lift a mudhorn...” Din returned his attention to his Foundling as he heard him mutter under his breath. He watched as the kid’s eyes widened in sudden understanding. “The Child! He’s Force-sensitive? I thought you were kidding when you said that!” 

“One, no, I couldn’t make that up if I tried. I actually wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for the womprat. Two, how’d you find that out?” He narrowed his eyes behind his helmet as he watched Kharon’s reaction. 

“I don’t know how I hadn’t before, honestly. The Force obviously flows through him not that I’m looking for it. To answer your question, he used the Force to see where Vaar’ika was.”

Din looked back at the Child, who was currently playing some sort of chasing game with Winta and Aariz. Vaar’ika bounded between the three, effectively keeping the two bigger children from catching the Child by leaping in front of them.

“Let’s go get something to eat. You’ve earned it, your improving quickly.” It was a little past midday; the other villagers had probably already eaten. Din led he way to the Long Hall, wanting to get out of the heat. Though he had been in worse conditions, the sun heating his beskar was by no means comfortable for long periods of time. He waited as Kharon got a bowl of some sort of (you guessed it) krill-based soup, and they sat down at the back of the hall.

After a few moments of relative silence while Kharon started eating, the foundling spoke. “Soo, I’ve never actually seen you eat. Aren’t you hungry?”

“I don’t take my helmet off in front of people.” Honestly, he thought the kid was familiar with Mandalorian traditions. Or maybe he just knew the language.

“Well, yeah, but... when do you eat?” He seemed genuinely curious as he continued on with his bowl.

“I eat in the evenings. While everyone else sleeps.”

“And that lasts you all through the night and next day?” Kharon asked incredulously. “You’re kidding me. How in the worlds do you manage to stay fit and healthy enough to fight like that? You need energy, don’t you?”

“I eat a protein bar in the morning. Before everyone wakes up.” Really, it wasn’t that big a deal. This kid was just fussy as heck.

“That’s not any better.” Kharon have an exasperated sigh, but relented after that. Din was glad.

After discussing training techniques with Kharon and answering any questions the teen had, Din stood and stretched. Leaving the Long Hall, he began to work his way back to his hut. As he rounded one last hut before his own, he stopped in his tracks. Before him, was his hut, looking the same as usual with one exception. One very bright, very colorful, very obvious exception. The usual entrance curtain had been removed, replaced with a woven blanket of lichen, leaves, and flowers of all kinds. Some of it looked masterfully done, while other patches looked to be children’s work. 

Covering the remaining ground between himself and his hut, he gently reached out and ran careful fingers over the artful work. Greens, reds, blues, and purples strung together so tightly, you couldn’t see through. It looked as if it would take weeks, if not months, for one person to make. He felt frozen to the spot as his breath caught in his throat, but managed to turn his head at a rustling sound. 

Omera stood nearby, clothing dripping wet and a woven basket of krill in hand. She gave him a soft smile before her gaze went passed him to the curtain of flora. 

“Do you like it? The whole village pitched in to help. The children especially found it fun. You aren’t as in to spotchka as a certain drop trooper, so we had to find some other way to show our appreciation. Don’t worry, no one will be offended if you want to take it down.” 

Din appreciated the offer, but judging from the knowing smile on her face as she said it, they both new that wasn’t likely. He felt Omera watching him as he turned back to the curtain, taking in the details and hard-work. His throat felt thick, and he struggled to swallow and find something to say. Try as he might, he knew his final “thank you.” sounded a little too raspy to be normal, even through the modulator of his helmet. He could almost feel Omera smiling at him before she turned and left.

That night as the Mandalorian leaned back against the wall in his cot, the Child crooning at him from its crib and Vaar’ika draping herself over the rafters, Din looked towards his door. As he watched the gentle breeze rustle the petals and leaves, and listened to Vaar’ika’s purrs mixing with the Child’s gurgles, he thought about the villagers. The prospect of a mutual feeling of care frightened him more than he’d have liked to admit, and he knew he was getting too attached. Yet as he drifted off, he felt almost content for the first time in a long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry, I know it’s a little short. I’ll try to get another chapter up soon. Speaking of which, I think I’m going to try something a little different in the next chapter... we’ll see!
> 
> Mando’a Translations:
> 
> Cabur - guardian, protector
> 
> Gar jate? - you good?
> 
> ‘Lek - yeah


	11. The Cat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new perspective and more of the plot unfolds! (Or starts to)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so, I felt bad about not writing and somehow happened upon some free time, sooo... new chapter! I decided to try something new with the character perspective this time around, please let me know what you think!

Vaar’ika opened a wary eye, glancing around the the hut as she stood and stretched out on the rafter. She could see the shiny man (Mandalorian, she’d heard the other humans say) and the Small One (she’s heard the Mandalorian call it ad’ika) we’re both asleep still. Opening her mouth to let out a yawn, she leapt to a shelf and then a lower rafter, padding across it to lay over the Ad’ika’s crib.

Crossing her front talons over each other, she watched it sleep. She wanted it to wake up. She wanted to play. As she watched, her large ears heard the Ad’ika’s steady breathing and heart rate speed up. She flicked her ears in satisfaction, watching as the Ad’ika yawned and blinked open bleary eyes. She lazily looked around as she casually draped her long, poofy tail over the edge of the beam. The Ad’ika seemed to love her tail. 

As the Ad’ika reached up to grab it, she twitched it out of the way again. The Ad’ika tried again with the same results. Vaar’ika (that’s what the Shiny Man—the _Mandalorian_— had called her. She would stick with the name her Finder Father gave her) watched with amusement. All the large kittens in this town entertained her. She was still a kit’ herself, but she new she grew older faster than these ones. She felt she should protect and teach them, as she was older in all but years. Especially this green kit’, this _Ad’ika_ it was called.

As the Ad’ika stood to try and reach her tail again, she leapt down into the crib with it. She let it gently pat her, tugging her ears and running little clawed hands over her fur. She purred a reassurance at it as she climbed out, and felt the familiar tug of its invisible hands on her mind, projecting understanding. It was something different about this kit’. Its invisible strings were stronger than others around her. Sometimes, she could even feel the Ad’ika gently reach out to twist and manipulate its invisible strings with the world, to make strange things happen. Like when it caught her from falling into the pond with. She was too young to swim then. Now she had an obligation to help her Finder Father’s Ad’ika, as it had helped her. Not that she wouldn’t anyway.

Flicking her tail one last time across its little face, she left the kit’ alone to go in search of food. It was still early, the sun barely coming up. The Mandalorian would remove its shiny face soon, to eat. She would eat with him.

As she prowled through the tall grasses near the pond, her large ears picked up on a scuffling sound. She followed it to a beady-eyed rodent, quickly making her kill and returning to the Shiny Man’s den. 

“Su’cuy Vaar’ika”

Vaar’ika meowed a greeting of her own as she leapt onto the Mandalorian’s cot with her catch. Sometimes he made different sounds as the other people in the village, but she found some of them held the same meanings. When he did that, she saw he got curious looks. The others must not understand him. But she was raised with his language, and the language of the Others of this people settlement. She understood both.

Vaar’ika purred with contentment as the Mandalorian scratched behind her ears. Taking off his shiny face, he began to eat too. The Ad’ika snored softly from where it had fallen back asleep in its crib. Vaar’ika finished her meal, sprawling alongside the Mandalorian as she waited for him to finish eating. Then they would take the Ad’ika to the Prey Den (Did the people call it Large Hall? Long Hall?) so it could eat as well.

Vaar’ika ran ahead as the Mandalorian took the Ad’ika out of its crib. She knew where he would go next. It was the same every day. She ran to the back of the Prey—_Long Hall_—where their usual table was. Leaping from the bench to the tabletop, she sat with her tail curled around her talons to wait. Her ears twitched at the sound of clanking pots, and the smell of krill filled her slitted nostrils. A few early risers wandered about, cooking breakfast or repairing baskets for the day. 

She didn’t have to wait long before the Mandalorian came in with the Ad’ika, setting it down on the bench at their table. Vaar’ika hopped down beside it, curling her body protectively around it and meowing at the Mandalorian. She had to make sure he knew she’d watch it while he got its food after all. The Ad’ika giggled and patted clawed hands on her back. The Mandalorian’s Shiny Face watched her for a second, and she gazed back.

With a small nod, the Mandalorian turned and walked to get the Ad’ika’s food. Returning her attention to the Ad’ika, she calmly let it stroke her ears. She was beginning to grow into them, though she knew she was still a lot slimmer and smaller than others of her species. Her mother’s rounded face had been huge compared to her own. 

The Ad’ika let out a small gurgle, and gently tugged on her ears. She felt his invisible hands on her mind, and she knew he was curious. With a _mrrr_ of amusement, she lifted a talon and patted his own ears. Hers may look different, but they’re still for the same thing! The hands gently caressed her mind, and she knew the Ad’ika understood, and was delighted by her response. 

Vaar’ika glanced up as the Mandalorian returned, setting down the Ad’ika’s food and sat to watch the room. Leaving the kit’ to eat, Vaar’ika clambered onto the Mandalorian’s shoulder for a better vantage point of her own. It simply wouldn’t do for a cat to let down her guard. 

It wasn’t long before her Finder Father’s newer kit’ (Kharon, it’s Kharon.) came into the Long Hall, grabbing food of his own before sitting down. Vaar’ika glanced at him warily, waiting. The older kit’ looked up at her, quirking an eyebrow with a smile. Her brown eyes locked onto the krill that began to lift from his bowl, his invisible strings carrying it towards her. She licked her lips in anticipation, snatching it out of the air with her talons as soon as it was close enough. Her sharp hearing easily picked up a slightly irritated (more exasperated, really) huff from the Mandalorian’s Shiny Face as he reached up to brush off his pauldron. (As if she’d be so messy as to get krill on his armor.)

“Maybe we should have a rule. ‘No using the Force at the table to feed the cat’ sounds like a good start.”

(Force. Is that what humans call the invisible strings?)

“What? You don’t want the poor kitty to starve, do you?” Kharon looked at the Mandalorian with a sad expression, before returning his gaze to her. 

The Mandalorian seemed to glare at the older kit’ before turning to stare straight ahead. “She’s already eaten breakfast. She doesn’t need anymore.”

“Aww, whatever. That’s why she likes me more.” Kharon reached out to pat her, only to have his hand swatted down by the Mandalorian so fast he did a double-take. “Did you just hit me?”

The Mandalorian continued staring stoically ahead, as if he’d never moved. “No.”

“Did so.” The kit’ grumbled, but he turned back to his food. Vaar’ika gave a satisfied flick of her tail. The ‘Force’ was strong with this kit’ (though he didn’t have the raw power the Ad’ika possessed) leading her to enjoy his company. He was able to communicate her, although he couldn’t open his mind enough to interact with her as much as the Ad’ika did. However, no one could claim to be more loved by her than her Finder Father. The invisible strings (Force, she reminder herself) had formed a bond between them when he had first found and rescued her. She was a Loth-Cat, and she would honor her species by being loyal ‘til the end.

Vaar’ika prowled through the thick undergrowth of the woods as the Mandalorian and older kit’ trained. The Mandalorian had asked her to hide in the woods and wait for Kharon called her. She had heard Kharon talking about some ‘Jedi’ and how they could interact with non-sentient species through the ‘Force’. The Mandalorian asking her to do things made her proud. It gave her purpose. Her Finder Father no longer seemed skeptical while speaking to her either. He seemed to understand she could comprehend what he asked, even if she only knew a little bit. Vaar’ika knew the importance of understanding the language of others from her mother, before the Harsh Ones had taken her mother away. Not all people were as nice as Vaar’ika’s Finder Father. Her mother taught her to know is to survive. It was harder to get in trouble that way. 

Vaar’ika walked just out of sight, until she felt an invisible hand grasp her mind, prickling at her, urging her to return. Kharon’s touch wasn’t like the Ad’ika’s. It wasn’t as clear. But she could still feel vaguely what he wanted. Flicking some dew drops from her ears, she made her way back to the clearing, bounding out of the underbrush and leaping onto Kharon’s shoulder from behind, and immediately sprinting to the Mandalorian’s shoulder from there. She turned in time to see Kharon regain his balance from being her makeshift springboard, and gave a curious meow. Kharon grinned.

“See? I told you it’d work.”

The Mandalorian gave a slow nod of his head, turning his Shiny Face to look at her before returning his gaze to Kharon. “So it did. You’ve improved quickly with all your training, especially the vibroblade. Is there a possibility the Force is affecting your ability to learn, improving it?”

Kharon glanced at the ground, a bit sheepishly. “It definitely plays a part, i think. It sorta give me a...” He scrunched his face, thinking for a word. “Premonition? I can sort of feel where your going to strike before you do it. It helps a lot.”

The Mandalorian seemed thoughtful for a moment, but before he could speak a loud roaring came from overhead. The harsh sound made Vaar’ika pin her sensitive ears to her head, hissing as she flattened her body to her Finder Father’s shoulder. Both the Mandalorian and Kharon dropped into an instinctive crouch, using the foliage of the woods to hide them. A large ship flew over their heads before the trees masked it from their view.

“The kid.” The Mandalorian breathed, and then he was off. Vaar’ika leapt from his shoulder, opting to race alongside him. Kharon wasn’t far behind, though he wasn’t nearly as fast as her and the Mandalorian. (The kid, he had said. Her Finder Father wanted the kid protected. She wanted the kid protected too. And there was no way he’d reach the village in time.)

Vaar’ika gave one last look at her Finder Father before racing ahead. As trees and bushes changed to green and brown blurs alongside her, she sprinted for the village she now called home. She had one objective in mind. Serve her Finder Father. Protect his kit’. 

As her mother had taught her was the way of the Loth-Cat:

Loyalty ‘til the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mando’a Translations:
> 
> Su’cuy - Hello
> 
> Ad’ika - Little one
> 
> Vaar’ika - Pipsqueak, runt
> 
> In my mind, Vaar’ika has been raised with Din speaking to her in Basic and Mando’a, so she has at least a basic understanding of both languages. She still works to put words to different things (like the Long Hall, and the Force) But she’s mostly got it down. As for the Child, she has always heard Mando call him Ad’ika while in the safety of his hut, so that is what the Child is to her. He is an Ad’ika. Also, the ‘invisible strings’ was, of course, the Force. I felt like the Force should be something all ‘non-sentient’ (pfft, non-sentient. Like my precious Vaar’ika is non-sentient) species had a subconscious understanding of. However, since Vaar’ika has grown up watching the Child (and now Kharon) ‘manipulate’ it and use it in different ways, she has a broader understanding of what it is. Also, kit’ is short for kitten and the village children are large kit’s to her. 💜


	12. The Foreigners

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When people from his past make a sudden appearance, Din struggles with keeping his emotions under control. The kind-hearted father-figure of a Force-sensitive Child competes with the cold-hearted Mandalorian bounty hunter from his past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the sake of this fic (this is a slight spoiler but it sorta has to be said to understand some stuff) Mayfeld was in the original group. That’s all I’ll say about that.
> 
> After a lot of writing and ignoring other duties for the sake of my sanity, I’ve got another chapter out for y’all! I hope you enjoy, lemme know what you think!

Din ran hard, jumping thickets and ferns, dodging trees, struggling toward the village. But no matter how fast he ran, he felt it wasn’t fast _enough_. How could he leave the Child so unprotected? He _knew_ there were other fobs out there, and he had left the Child alone anyway. Distantly, his mind registered Vaar’ika giving him one last look before racing ahead with a flick of her tail. 

When Din finally crashed through the trees, he found the village was completely intact, no sign of anything out of the ordinary. He didn’t know what he had expected, but it was a relief all the same. He immediately set out for the Child, and saw that the villagers had all gathered together in the center of the village. They seemed uncertain if not curious, prepared for any outcome. As he reached them, Cara Dune stepped out of the crowd to meet him.

“Your kid ‘s right there, I would pick him up and hand him to you but... the cat doesn’t seem to like that idea.”

Din looked down to see the Child grinning happily as it sat on the ground, Loth-Cat curled protectively around it. He felt a strange burst of pride that his two closest companions were so tight-knit, and that even the Loth-Cat was wanting to protect his ad’ika.

Leaning down, Din scooped up his kid and patted the cat on its head. “Vor’e Vaar’ika.”

Straightening up, he became serious once more. Cara seemed to be thinking along the same lines he was with the strange ship appearance.

“So, what we thinking? Friend or foe?”

Din noticed quite a few of the villagers turn toward them at Cara’s question. Of course they would want to know what he and Cara thought, seeing as they were the most acquainted with combat situations. “Not sure. But I’m not taking any chances.”

Cara nodded in agreement. “Alright ya bunch of Loth-kits, listen up!” Din mentally facepalmed at Dune’s name calling—he suspected it had something to do with her incessant teasing him about adopting the cat. Speaking of said cat, Din noticed the feline seemed to have a strangely smug expression on its face for a cat. “Get the kids in the most secure hut you’ve got. We’re not taking any chances with this, and if worst comes to worst we don’t want them caught up in the crossfire.”

A few of the more elderly villagers gave Cara a quick nod before ushering the kid’s to one of the centermost huts. After the raiders, they had chosen one of the huts to be more heavily fortified than the others for cases just like this. Din and Cara had helped with building a second wall around the first close enough to the original that it looked normal, but far enough apart that they could fill the empty space between with rocks. That way, it was unlikely any shots would make it through the walls to harm the children within. They also dug out a small area underneath the hut similar to the one in Din’s own hut, covering it with a trap door. It would be an effective hiding space if needed.

Stepping back, Cara allowed Din to continue. Handing the Child off to Omera, he rose his voice for all to hear. “Anyone who is willing to fight, meet me and Dune at my hut. I’ll hand out weapons just in case. There’s no guarantee of any danger, but we want to play it safe. If we do end up having to fight, listen to me, Cara, or Kharon for instructions.” The boy’s eyes widened as Dyn made eye contact (or as close as he could get with a helmet), and Din gave him a reassuring nod. He wasn’t kidding when he said the teen had improved. He was begrudgingly impressed with how well he had taken to the training. Din turned back to the crowd. “Let’s go.”

Din and Cara fell into step beside each other as they started towards his hut. With a flying leap, Vaar’ika landed on his shoulder, her tail twitching in anticipation. Omera appeared on his other side, arms empty after sending him with Winta and the other children.

Reaching his hut, Din began to unpack his weapons. Cara handed out the sharpened wooden spears the villagers had made for the raiders, before starting to select guns for different people. They worked quickly. There was no telling when the newcomers would arrive (or even if they would come to the village for that matter). 

When the last of the gathered villagers had been armed and dispersed (likely to get a bit of practice in while they waited) Din slung his pulse rifle over his shoulder and stepped out onto his porch next to Cara.

“What are you smiling about?” Cara was obviously trying to hold back a laugh. He didn’t see what was so funny about the current situation.

“Oh, nothing.”

Even with the helmet, he knew his glare was effective. Unfortunately, his glare had never had much affect on the drop trooper. It was quite the contrary in fact, as she started to crack up even more.

“Alright, alright! I’m sorry, but how can anyone take a Mandalorian seriously when they’re standing with a flower-curtain backdrop and wearing a cat on their shoulder? Forget formidable, you look ridiculous.”

Din didn’t dignify her with a response. Instead, he gave an irritated huff before walking over to where Omera was standing with the blaster she had been given. As he approached, she lowered it and gave him a smile. 

“Why, hello there. Nice cat.”

“Not you too.” He groaned, crossing his arms. It was enough to get a surprised laugh out of her.

“What, Cara wasn’t making fun of it, was she?” He sighed as she giggled again, but she quickly sobered up. “In all seriousness though, do you think there’s really any danger here?”

Din looked out in the direction the ship had gone. “I don’t know. But it’s always better to be prepared than to be caught off guard.”

Omera nodded in agreement before resting a hand on his pauldron. “Let us hope for the best then.”

With one last smile and a scratch behind Vaar’ika’s ears, she headed off to check on Winta and the Child.

It was nearing afternoon and most of the less vigilant villagers had begun to relax before there was any change. Din stood watching in the cover of one of the huts at the edge of the village when Vaar’ika’s head snapped up, ears pricking and fur bristling as she went on high alert. Din straightened as well, taking a step in the direction the ship had gone. He could barely make out the crunching of leaves in the distance, and could have easily mistaken it for an animal. But he trusted his Vaar’ika. If she thought something was up, he absolutely agreed with her. Especially now.

Cara had, of course, immediately taken notice of his change of posture. She quietly came up beside him, resting a firm hand on his unoccupied shoulder. “What’cha got?” She murmured.

Using his vambrance to change his helmet settings, he peered into the trees. “Four heat signatures. Can’t make out what yet, but definitely humanoid.”

Cara gave a grim nod. “Then I’ll rally the troops. Just in case.”

Dyn shifted his weight as she walked off, hand ghosting over the blaster in his holster. He hoped he didn’t have to use it, but if these people proved to be in danger to his kid or the village... he knew he’d do it in a heartbeat.

Soon enough, Cara had finished stationing villagers around the huts, including guards at the door to the children’s hut. She, Kharon, Omera, Aishah, Caben, and Stoke joined the Mandalorian at the edge of the village, and together they all walked out to a wall that remained from the raider attack. They crouched behind it and waited, Din occasionally checking the heat signatures to see how close the people had gotten.

“What’s the plan for when they get here? They may just be passerby's, we can’t just attack them.” Omera whispered to their little group. Caben and Stoke nodded in agreement.

“Oh, heck no, we don’t wanna hurt no innocents man. We just wanna protect our village.” Caben added, and Stoke nodded once more. 

“We won’t attack them right away. Once they get close enough we’ll decide if they seem hostile. If not, we can cautiously greet them, help them, send them on their way. If they seem suspicious, Kharon, Cara and I will go out to speak with them, see what they want. You guys will stay here as our backup, we’ll see how it progresses from there.”

The others nodded in agreement, and Din saw Kharon swell with pride at being named one of the people to go up front with him. Reaching down, he gently stroked Vaar’ika’s tense form where she was crouched beside him. She had opted to hop onto the ground rather than his shoulder, but she stayed close to his side. 

Crouching near the edge of the wall closest to the opening, Din watched as the newcomers stepped out: a human, a purple Twi’lek, and a red Devaronian.

Before anyone else could react, Din flung himself around the wall, slinging his pulse rifle in one hand and grabbing his blaster with the other. The small group startled to an abrupt halt at his sudden appearance. He couldn’t help but feel the slightest twinge of satisfaction at their reaction—that is, until he heard the harsh whispers from his group behind the wall.

“Din Djarin, what in the _worlds_ do you think you’re doing?” Din cringed behind his helmet, but chose to ignore the whispered reprimand from Cara. He could practically feel the tension increasing in the group behind him, even as the ones in front of him began to smile; particularly the Twi’lek.

“What are you doing here.” He could hear the coldness in his own voice. It was no longer the voice of the Child-softened man he’d become after his escape from the spaceport—it was the voice of the Mandalorian bounty hunter, the cold-hearted killer who had done bad and seen worse. Who had witnessed death, and killed others himself. Who hunted for money, and tolerated nothing against him or his Mandalorian culture. It was a voice he hadn’t heard from himself in what seemed like ages, but in reality was only weeks. 

Distantly, he realized not even Cara had heard him like this before, and new he should try to relax for the sake of those behind him. For the peaceful villagers, the rogue drop trooper, for the boy whose father had been killed by a Mandalorian who had probably seemed just like he did now: a cold, distant killer.

However, whatever Din had come out in the recent weeks since obtaining the Child was currently gone, buried deep inside at the sight of these people. As the Twi’lek grinned, he felt his grip on his blaster tighten.

“Oh, come on Mando. Is this any way to greet your old friends? We were close once, if you recall.” Behind him, the Mandalorian heard the quiet whispers abruptly stop. The Twi’lek took a swaggering step forward. “Who knew we’d find _you_ here.” He didn’t know it was possible for her sickeningly sadistic smile to get wider, but it did.

Gritting his teeth, the Mandalorian stared her down with his expressionless helmet. “I said, _what. Are you doing here._”

The smile disappeared, replaced by an annoyed pout. Before she could respond, the human stepped forward. “She’s right you know. You may be a ‘high and mighty Mandalorian’ but you’re still no better than us. Just because you dropped outta the gang doesn’t make you any less a member of the crimes we committed together. As for what we’re doing here, why do you want to know? What’re you doing here, away from your fancy _guild_?”

“Ha, guild. Puny Mandalorian probably got kicked out. No use for a weak link in the ranks. The way you’d described him; I thought he’d be bigger.”

“And you are?” The Mandalorian had never taken crap about himself or his aliit lightly, and he wasn’t going to start now. Especially not from some random Devaronian he had never even met.

“Ah, that’s right. You don’t know him yet. Let’s just say we needed more brawn on the team after you left, and he was the lucky guy. Not much of a strategist, the lack of your planmaking took some getting used to, but we managed. When it comes to heavy-lifting, he gets the job done alright.” The human responded. “Of course, that doesn’t mean Xi’an was any less heartbroken at your departure. You know she’s sensitive.”

The pouty face increased as Xi’an stepped forward, and the Mandalorian immediately swung his blaster around to face her. “Come one step closer, I dare you.”

“Oh, _I’ll_ come a step closer all right.” Xi’an stepped back once more to watch with a sneer as the Devaronian strode forward, knocking aside the pulse rifle with one hand, and shoving the arm holding the blaster away with the other. Pulling back, he swung a punch at the Mandalorian’s head. The Mandalorian caught it with a grunt, dropping the blaster to spin out of the grip of the Devaronian’s other hand in order to twist its arm behind its back. With a growl, the Devaronian slammed his head back against the Mandalorian’s helmet, and twisted to make another punch. Dyn caught it once again, simultaneously kneeing him in the stomach and using the momentum of his punch to swing him down to the ground. As the Devaronian’s body hit, the Mandalorian aimed a quick kick at its head to daze it long enough to grab his blaster, change it to stun, and shoot.

Looking up, his eyes were met with the slow applause of both human and Twi’lek. “Oh, how I’ve missed this, you always were quite the showman, weren’t you?”

“I agree with Xi’an, life seems dull when your used to a Mandalorian hanging around. But you had to disappear on us. What was up with that, by the way? Get cold feet? Run off and hide, like the rest of those Mandos that are supposedly out there?”

“_Ne’johaa_ Mayfeld, gar _hut’uun_.” Din heard a sharp gasp from behind him, most likely from Kharon. After all, he was the most fluent in Mando’a out of all the people in the village. 

Mayfeld’s eyes narrowed in anger, and his face twisted to a scowl. “You better watch it Mando. We were good fighters before, you have firsthand experience of that.” He spat. “And we’ve only improved since. The two of us can take on only one of you easily.”

“You sure about that?” Anger filled Cara’s voice as she abruptly stood and walked to stand behind Din, blaster at the ready, She was quickly followed by Kharon, Vaar’ika winding around his feet with her fur on end, and Omera. Caben and Stoke took defensive positions with their spears in the opening of the wall that lead to the village.

Mayfeld seemed to rethink his strategy as he eyed the armed group. Even if he and Xi’an could take them all on, it wouldn’t be without serious injury. “Let’s calm down now, it was all fun and games. We just got a little exited at running into an old friend.” He raised his arms placatingly, giving an obviously fake smile.

Cara let out a humorless snort. “Right, and Wampas sprouted wings. What are you here for?” By now, a few of the closer villagers began to drift warily closer, trying to decide if there was any danger with the newcomers or not. They didn’t go unnoticed by said group, attracting the eyes of both the human and the Twi’lek.

“A whole village on your side, huh? You never struck me as the kinda guy, I must say.” Mayfeld snuck a sly glance at the Mandalorian before continuing on. “Not after what happened to yours, anyway. 

“Well,” he quickly continued, effectively bringing any curious looks at the now rigid Mandalorian back to himself. “If you really want to know why we’re here, we’ll tell you. 

“We were on our way back from a job, nice haul in, really. You woulda loved it, Mando. Anyway, ah, ship got shot down, needed a place to land for repairs. What a happy coincidence we happened upon and old friend. We’ll stay here until we’ve fixed our ship, then we can be on our way.”

“Where’s the proof?” The Mandalorian’s deadly glare was only amplified by the helmet, as he turned his head to Xi’an who had deepened her voice and copied him word for word while he spoke.

She threw her head back and cackled at the look. “We know you _too well_ Mando.”

Mayfeld grinned as well. “As for the proof, you’re free to check out our ship. We’ll stay here and decide what we need for repairs.”

Cara angered even more, if possible. “Oh, no y—”

“—There’s an empty hut on the edge there.” The Mandalorian turned and pointed at one of the closest vacant huts, which coincidentally was both farthest from the children and was in clear view of Din’s own hut. “You go there, you stay there. I will help you with the repairs to make it go faster, then your on your way. You leave as soon as it’s fixed.”

The two strode forward, and the others in Din’s group automatically backed away with weapons raised. Xi’an walked up to the unmoving Mandalorian, and stood regarding him for a second. In a lightning fast movement, she whipped out a blade and swung it at the Mandalorian’s neck. There was a gasp from Omera, shocked cry from Kharon, a startled shout from Cara. Din did not move. The blade froze mere millimeters from his neck. 

Xi’an grinned at his unflinching helmet, slowly putting away her blade. “Knew we could count on you.” 

“Alright, quit the flirting and let’s go. Help me with this guy, would you?” Mayfeld was shaking his head at Xi’an’s antics as he crouched next to the Devaronian and slung one of the large arms around his neck.

Xi’an lifted one hand as if to stroke the Mandalorian’s helmet. In a flash of fur and claws, Vaar’ika was on the Mandalorian’s shoulder and let out a hiss as Xi’an retracted a bloody hand. The Twi’lek hissed back at the Loth-Cat, making a biting motion with her teeth before going to help Mayfeld. 

As the two began to drag the Devaronian towards their new hut, a hand tightly gripped the Mandalorian’s shoulder, swinging him around to face the rage-filled face of Cara Dune.

“And _why_” Cara’s voice was deadly calm with thinly veiled anger. “Might I ask, are we _allowing them to stay?_” 

Din took a deep breath, trying to take some of the coldness from his voice before he responded. His voice was relatively warmer and calm when he said “We have to.” And turned to leave, swinging the fallen pulse rifle over his shoulder.

“What do you _mean_ we have to! No, we don’t have to, we kill them and let bygones be bygones.”

“_No_.” Cara took an involuntary step back as the Mandalorian spun to face her, the full brunt of his frosty anger back in his voice. Her eyes widened and her face was startled. Din closed his eyes, taking a few more deep breaths. “No. I won’t kill them.”

“Then we run them off, whatever.” Cara said as he started to turn again. He stopped mid-turn, watching her uncertain expression from the corner of his eye. 

“That would be worse.” This time, it was despair that crept into his voice, although he turned and walked off so fast, you would have to be close to him to realize anything different at all.

He strode of quickly, making sure he kept the newcomers within his sight. As he walked, he threw some hand signals over his shoulder, knowing Cara would understand. Knowing the Republic’s old hand signals proved incredibly helpful with some of his past bounties.

Turning his head, he spoke in a low voice to Vaar’ika. “Guard the kid.”

With a short ‘_mrow_’ Vaar’ika sprang from his shoulder, racing off to the children’s hut. He had a strange feeling she would do her job, no matter what. It was both reassuring and foreboding.

Passing some bemused and worried villagers, he followed the small group to the hut he had pointed out. Stopping outside the hut, he stood guard and watched, unmoving, as the Devaronian was dropped on the ground and the other two sprawled about with exaggerated sighs. 

“We’re a bit tired,”

“Ex-_hausted_” Xi’an cut in with an exaggerated groan, stretching her arms above her.

“We think we’ll wait for tomorrow to start on repairs.” Mayfeld grinned, closing the curtain in the opening with a flourish.

Taking a stiff step back, Dyn leaned against the back wall of another hut, and prepared himself to stand watch. There was no way he was letting these aruetiise out of his sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mando’a Translations:
> 
> Ad’ika - Little One
> 
> Vor’e Vaar’ika - Thanks Pipsqueak
> 
> Aliit - Clan, family
> 
> Ne’johaa Mayfeld, gar hu’tuun - Shut up Mayfeld, you are a coward (hu’tuun is considered the worst possible insult to a Mando)
> 
> Aruetiise - Traitors, foreigners, outsiders


	13. The Nuisances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone hates the new group, Xi’an is the worst, and Cara contemplates this new side of Din.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the wait, I had to go and get sick, and then I started writing something else for Din and Vizla ‘cause I couldn’t focus on this, and I finally finished this next chapter but I still don’t know how I feel about it, so. Oh well? I think in the next chapter I’ll try to throw in more Din and Omera moments, i feel I’ve really been slacking in that department recently. I just can’t figure out what I want to write for them...
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy this slightly awkwardly written jumble of thoughts!
> 
> (I’m so sorry)

Din stood and waited, watching the hut’s entrance for any sign of a disturbance. He was pretty sure the aruetiise were asleep, but he didn’t want to take any chances. He just continued standing guard right outside. The curious villagers had long since left him alone to return to work, trusting him to do his self-appointed job and unwilling to approach him. Even with a helmet covering his expression, they seemed to instinctually know this wasn’t the Mandalorian they had grown to love and appreciate for helping them and saving their village.

Hearing footsteps to his right, Din turned his head to regard the shock trooper heading towards him. “The ship?” He asked.

Cara gave a begrudging nod, wrinkling her nose in annoyance. “Shot down, definitely a rough landing. They weren’t lying, at least not entirely anyway.” She paused for a moment, as though trying to decide whether to continue or not. “By the way, how exactly do you know Republican hand signals?”

Din winced behind his helmet. He didn’t quite want to admit he had hunted some of her peers. There was even a slim chance she had known some of them. But he wasn’t going to lie to her, either. “Part of the job.”

Cara pursed her lips, but nodded in acceptance. They both had things from the past they’d rather not dwell on after all. Instead, she changed the subject. “What’re _they_ up to?”

Din let out a soft sigh. “Sleeping, as far as I can tell. Aren’t trying to actively seek out trouble at least.”

Cara gave a grim nod, pausing once more as she regarded the Mandalorian in front of her. “You should rest. I’ll keep watch while you do.”

Naturally, the stubborn Mandalorian tried to protest. “I’m fine—”

“Nope. Nu uh, not taking that bull.” Cara forcefully shoved him away from his wall, in the direction of his hut. Cutting off his protests, she continued. “I can handle myself fine, if there’s any trouble you’ll be the first to know. Now _go_.”

With a frustrated grunt, he gave in. After the day’s training and his sprint through the forest, as well as his encounter with the new group and scuffle with the Devaronian, he was both mentally and physically exhausted. He would trust Cara to watch them, just this once.

Returning to his hut, Din settled down into a fitful sleep.

Vaar’ika crouched upon the roof of the hut that contained the large kits of the village. She had seen her Finder Father doing the same with the newcomers before the Warrior Lady (Cara?) had sent him off and taken his spot. That was good, the Mandalorian needed rest.

Vaar’ika continued her silent watch all through the night (the Mandalorian switched spots with the Warrior Lady just before midnight, and again nearing dawn) and the early morning. She was getting tired herself, but her frequent catnaps throughout the day before were keeping her going and alert, and would continue to do so for many hours to come. She would continue to protect the village kits, even if there was no immediate danger. 

The villagers began to wake as the sun rose above the trees on the horizon, going about their daily chores and starting breakfast. Soon enough, people started going to the Long Hall to eat; the Foul Ones included. Vaar’ika narrowed her eyes as the three strode through the village, her village, as if they owned the place. It certainly was not.

This land belonged to the village, and she had claimed it as her hunting ground. If the Foul Ones (they had smelled of death and carrion rot) wanted to pretend it was theirs, so be it. She already saw them as predators out to hurt her kits, she had no problem with protecting her territory as well. All the more excuses for her to act. 

Her Finder Father was always nearby the Foul Ones, although for a normal onlooker it was hard to tell. He was always working, helping villagers move supplies, carrying firewood, nothing out of the ordinary. But he was always just around the corner from the newcomers, and he made sure they knew it. Vaar’ika let out a _mrrr_ of pleasure as she saw her Finder Father ‘accidentally’ turn around whilst carrying a long plank of wood, forcing the Twi’lek to duck in order to not get hit. Serves her right for trying to stray from their group.

The Twi’lek hissed at the Mandalorian, turning back to the others with a snarl. Vaar’ika wished she had been hit with the plank.

As the day progressed and the sun lifted higher in the sky, pleasantly warming her back and the roof, she felt her eyes drifting closed. She could use a power nap. She needed sleep to function, after all, and there was no trouble so far. The Mandalorian was doing a good job at watching the threat, and the Warrior Lady and Older Kit’ were helping. She felt her eyes drift closed.

Vaar’ika came back to awareness, her ears snapping up as she became alert. But what was it that her heightened hearing had warned her of. She carefully scanned the village, looking for the Foul Ones. _There_.

The human and the Devaronian were lounging about outside their hut. Her Finder Father was nearby, casually keeping an eye on them. Everything looked normal, but...

Vaar’ika was little more than a kit’ but she had been raised by this Mandalorian. She knew what every turn of his Shiny Face, each twitch of his fingers, and every change of posture meant. Now, he was distressed, bordering on frantic. His posture was tense, his fingers subtly clenching like he wanted to reach for his gun. His head turned, just a fraction, but she knew instinctively that he was scanning his surroundings.

She looked again to the Foul Ones. Initially, she had assumed the third was inside, but with how anxious the Mandalorian was...

Her ears rotated back an forth, picking up every little sound of the village. The chatter of villagers, the splash of the krill ponds, clanging of pans, wind in the reeds, the kits’ restless shifting. The soft crunch of light footsteps, the footsteps of someone who was a dangerous predator and knew it.

Vaar’ika slunk along the edge of the roof, staying low. In the distance, she saw the Warrior Lady searching around huts, and Kharon scrambling up to a roof for a vantage point. Good. So they were looking as well.

Vaar’ika’s ears twitched, alerting her to the threat’s position. She scanned the huts nearby... and there. The form of the pink Twi’lek carefully making her way around huts, reconnoitering the area for herself and her band of foul-smelling predators. She didn’t seem like the type of predator who was on the hunt for her prey though. Her cautious actions and careful scanning of the environment was more of someone assessing their new territory for threats. Well, that was a big _no_.

Leaping to the ground, Vaar’ika slink to the middle of the Twi’lek’s path, staying far enough away to be out of reach of a sudden lunge, but close enough to attack and defend if need be. She wasn’t letting this predator near her kits.

Staring down the Foul one, her _prey_, who had yet to notice her, she lifted her head, opened her wide mouth, and let out a shrill, ominous trill that spoke of a warning to all who could hear.

Xi’an scanned the huts around her, trailing curious fingers over one of the wooden walls closest to her. Mayfeld and Burg we’re back at their hut, affectively keeping their dear Mando occupied. They knew he wouldn’t dare leave them out of his sights, and two of them were more threatening than one. He would leave the searching to that shock trooper and the gangly kid, while he kept watch. Really, she didn’t know what he saw in those two. It was quite disappointing, she’d have expected more from him after he left. Oh well.

_Time to find whatever he’s hiding. Surely it’s something..._Xi’an had no doubt she could evade Mando’s little ‘friends’ as long as she needed. She also had no doubt that there was something he was trying to hide. Why else would he be so protective of this poor excuse of civilization?

She rounded a corner, eyes tracing the surrounding area between huts for further consideration. She loved when people made entire villages from wood. They were so much fun to watch burn.

A shrill, piercing trill filled the air. A warning to back off, to leave the territory on which she stood. Those were always a delight to deal with. She gave a feral grin as she saw who her challenger was, the little rat who had bitten her sitting directly in her path.

_Oh joy, won’t that look pretty on the wall._ She took in the silky coat, tan and white fur with black specks and brown accents. _I’m gonna teach it a lesson, and use it’s mangled corpse as a decoration._

She locked eyes with the little beast, her delight growing when it stayed in place. Her hand reached down, and grabbed a sharpened throwing knife. Lifting it above her head, she pulled her arm back, aimed, and-

And a vice-like grip prevented her from moving her arm. Spinning, she came face to face with the permanent scowl of the visor etched in gleaming beskar armor. She quickly changed her predatorial grin to a more seductive one. 

“Oh, hello there Mando. Come to talk in private?”

The Mandalorian said nothing for a moment, before he snapped into action. Her arm was wrenched down, her body thrown off balance as she was flipped to the ground. She landed on her back with an angry hiss, baring her teeth at the offender. The visor continued to glare down. 

“We’re fixing your ship, and you are leaving. I never want to see your aruetyc troan again, any of you.”

Xi’an scowled. He knew she didn’t understand his stupid language, and it irritated her to no end that she didn’t know when he was being offensive or not. Something told her he was right now. She bared her teeth at him, and stood up with the grace of a Loth-

No, she refused to compare herself to the beast that was now licking its talons smugly from where it stood. She opened her mouth and hissed again. It flicked an ear with a bored blink. She hated it.

Cara stood by Din as darkness fell, covering the ground in shadows. They had spent a long day working on the damaged ship after the Twi’lek had been found. Cara could safely say she didn’t know which was more infuriating: having to let them stay in the village, or having to deal with their childish behavior while making repairs. At least keeping them away from the village meant the kids could stretch their legs.

“So, lemme ask you a question. If you hate these guys so much, why keep them around? Why not kill them and get everything over with? Galaxy knows I wanna do it.”

She could have sworn she heard a small huff from beneath the helmet. “If I did that-”

He paused, took a breath. She knew him well enough to know he was trying to figure out what to say.

“We’ve had a few... disagreements in the past. If I kill them, I’m just as bad as they are.”

Cara stood in silence for a moment. She wasn’t entirely sure what that meant, but one thing certainly stuck out. 

“So, hold on. We’re putting up with all of this because of your _pride_?” She felt the disbelief leeching into her voice, as well as the slightest slimmer of amusement. But really, the bounty hunter didn’t want to be considered a ‘big bad Loth-wolf’ by some petty criminals?

Din gave a soft hum before he responded. “I suppose you could say that’s part of it.”

Cara rolled her eyes as they settled back into a companionable silence. She would never admit to it aloud, but she enjoyed these little moments. It reminded her of being back with her squad. She frowned as she thought back to Din’s initial reaction to seeing these people show up. As much as she hated to admit it, even to herself, Din was the thing that frightened her the most about that encounter. He seemed to have gotten mostly over it by now, but it still worried her. Now, every time he began to get distant, or every time he stiffened up around the newcomers, she felt herself tense as well.

She had never felt particularly threatened by the Mando before, even when she thought he was a hunter after her. She couldn’t help but wonder if she had really seen the true Mandalorian bounty hunter side of him before. Her mind pulled to surface a distant memory of the raw power he’d shown when taking down the bounty hunters who’d threatened Omera what seemed like so long ago now, matching it up with the dangerous cold he’d shown to the newcomers. 

She shook her head to clear her mind. He was no threat to her, or the village. He would never harm them, but she knew whole-heartedly he would certainly die to protect them. She also knew she wouldn’t let that happen. 

“I’m gonna go to bed. Wake me up when it’s my shift.”

At his nodded response, she turned to head for her hut. Tomorrow they’d get to work on the ship again, and hopefully be able to rid themselves of these disgusting parasites soon. She couldn’t wait for things to return to normal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mando’a Translations:
> 
> Aruetiise - traitors, foreigners, outsiders
> 
> Aruetyc troan - Traitorous face
> 
> Vaar’ika - Pipsqueak


	14. Departure?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Repairs are made, and Din finally gets to see his former ‘team’ out of his home, without any major incidents. 
> 
> Really?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry I haven’t updated, I got a bit of writer’s block, but I figured it out! There’s a tad bit of Mandalorian/Omera here, but I’m still mostly focusing on the plot rn. Hopefully more in the near future? We’ll see. 
> 
> Also, I want to take a moment to give my appreciation for all the kind comments! They really make my day, especially after a long or bad day at school. They always cheer me up, and I really do appreciate the support! I never actually thought people would like my writing! Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

Din paced the length of his hut, memories plaguing his mind in the form of nightmares. Panic, anger, hatred, fear, and distress swirled together in a confusing mass of emotions that he was struggling to keep a grip on, _had_ been struggling to keep a grip on since his old team had arrived.

His sleep-deprived brain tore memories long-since buried to the surface of his mind, forcefully making him relive moments.

_Din sat around a table in the main space of the ship, alongside Mayfeld, Xi’an, and Ranzar. He didn’t want to be there, but they had made him come. Called it ‘team bonding’. He had never wanted to do anything less in his life._

_He watched in stoic silence as the other three boisterously ‘joked’ around, chatting about their most recent kills and who had managed the most bloodshed in the shortest amount of time. Even Mandalorians had morals, and Din was appalled. But they were his team, weren’t they? He couldn’t just leave them, so he stayed._

_Eventually, the conversation changed to their next bounty. “You know,” Xi’an drawled, her words slow and seductive despite their meaning. “We could just burn the village he’s in. That would flush him out quickly.”_

_“No.” _

_Perhaps he had said it to quickly, or maybe the first and only hint of emotion they’d ever heard from him had leaked through in the word, but all heads immediately snapped to him. Ranzar’s eyes were sharp and calculating, Mayfeld seemed curious in a sadistic way, and Xi’an was outright grinning._

_“And why not? It’d be so easy.” Her voice made him want to rip his ears off. Instead of giving into the temptation, he took a small breath to steady his emotions, careful not to let his helmet’s modulator pick the sound up._

_“It’d be inefficient.” He lied easily, neither his voice nor his posture showing any sign he’d given any hint of emotion at all. “If he gets caught in the flames, there’s a chance we won’t recover the body. It’s too risky.”_

_Xi’an gave a huff, clearly annoyed by the logical answer, and Mayfeld nodded in agreement. The subject was dropped, but Ranzar’s suspicious eyes lingered on the stoic visor of the helmet longer than Din would’ve liked._

_In the end, they had listened to Din about the bounty. But the village had still gone up in flames, smoke and screams filling the air. Din had immediately spun to face his ragtag team, fury simmering deep in his bones._

_“What did you do?” His voice was cold and hard and fierce, and only elicited delighted smirks from his companions. _

_“Well the bounty is out, isn’t he? No chance of him getting caught in the flames, and we get a show!” Xi’an replied, faux innocence smeared across her face._

_Din whipped out his vibroblade, holding it up to her throat. She smiled._

_“Now, hold up Din.” Ranzar stepped forward, his hands raised in a placating gesture. “There’s no need for that, she didn’t even know she was doing anything wrong. Maybe if you had elaborated...”_

_Din let out a frustrated growl, and Mayfeld stepped forward. “Besides, we’re your team. We’ve saved your sorry behind more times than I can count, and besides,” he leaned forward and lowered his voice with a smirk. “If you hurt us while we’re defenseless, you’d be just as bad as we are. And we’re the closest thing to family you’ve got.”_

_Din had stood for a moment in silence, before flipping his vibroblade back into its sheath, and walking out. No, he wouldn’t kill them. Couldn’t, even. But he had left soon after._

Din stopped his pacing and squeezed his eyes shut, hands curling into fists at his sides. The part about them saving his ‘sorry behind more times than could be counted’ was technically not true; Din was usually the one to get them out of any danger. But Mayfeld was right about him being as bad as them if he murdered them in cold blood. At least with bounties or in self-defense he had reasonable cause as well as the rules of the Guild to back him up.

Besides, while _family_ certainly wasn’t the word he’d use to describe them by any means, they had been his team for several years and they had been through many tight scrapes together. He couldn’t bring himself to just throw it all away and kill them after all of that. He had always struggled with sentiment, thus the child now in his care.

He also couldn’t just send them away, not after the obvious threat to burn down the peaceful krill farming village. For now, he’d get them their ship, and send them on their way, one last task to clear up any debts he may still have with them. If they decided to try and cause trouble after that? He’d cross that bridge when he got there.

Din resumed his pacing as his mind continued to race. There was no way he’d be getting back to sleep, but there was also no way Cara would let him take his next watch early.

Maybe he could visit the Child. That always calmed his nerves, and besides... Omera would be there too. She had been sleeping in the hut with the kids, as an added precaution. It’d be nice to talk with her, if nothing else. And he really, really wanted to check on his Ad’ika. 

Mind made up, he began the walk through the village, nodding at Cara as he passed. As he reached the hut, brown eyes flashed from above before a heavy weight landed on his shoulder. 

_Mrrow?_

Din reached up and scratched Vaar’ika behind one large ear. She settled down on his shoulder as he ducked through the entrance, immediately seeking out his kid. As soon as he saw it was okay, he turned to Omera.

She nodded to the Child with a sad, knowing smile. “Couldn’t stay away much longer, could you?”

“I needed to make sure he was okay.” Came the tight response. He wished he could spend more time in here with his ad’ika, but he needed to get those aruetiise out of here as soon as possible. He knew the Child wouldn’t be able to stay cooped up in here much longer, so he needed them gone before the kid found a way to slip out. After all, he always did, eventually. He can’t keep this kid contained.

Omera walked forward to gaze at the sleeping Child, standing shoulder to shoulder with Din. Winta was curled around the Child, and the other village kids were piled nearby as well. Din felt his heart warm at how protective all the village children had become of his ad’ika. He had to admit, it was sweet. He was glad the Child had found such good friends here. 

He only wished they could stay here in peace, without bringing trouble-making bounty hunters to the quiet planet. Like the hunter Cara had shot in the woods. And his old guild. And now his old team.

Omera seemed to realize the second his breathing started picking up, giving him a concerned glance and resting her hand on his pauldron. Vaar’ika began to purr comfortingly from his other shoulder.

“Are you alright?” He thought Omera sounded worried, though she was doing a good job at hiding it. Probably for his sake.

“No.” He decided to answer truthfully. He was most definitely not alright with this turn of events, and he wanted it to all be over. Why does his past seem to be chasing him wherever he goes? He thought the universe was bigger than this!

“Would you like to talk about it?” Omera seemed uncertain if she was crossing a line or not by asking, but she did it anyway. Once upon a time, Din would have shut down the offer immediately. But all his time spent in the serene little village had shown him that it was good to have friends, to talk to and rely on, even if the concept had been a difficult one at first.

After a moment of debate, he figured it couldn’t hurt to give a little bit of insight. He _knew_ he hadn’t been acting like the Din they had grown to care about recently, but he hadn’t been able to care enough to get his emotions in check for them. They must all be worried (wasn’t that a strange thought, people being worried about him. He never would have believed it before the Child, but now... it was strange.). 

“They- no, the Twi’lek and the Human, I don’t know the Devaronian. We used to be a team. A long time ago, us and one other had formed a small team together. We could work together to get better bounties, and spilt the credits among ourselves. It was good work, got a lot of money...”

“But?” Omera gently prodded, as he came to a pause.

“...but. We didn’t have the most stable relationship. Contrary to popular opinion, Mandalorians do have morals and boundaries we won’t cross. They- they had no such rules. But, I couldn’t- I couldn’t just,” He took a deep breath as Omera gently squeezed his arm. “They were my team...” he said a bit helplessly.

Omera nodded in vague understanding, and waited patiently for him to continue.

“They- they burned a village. Just to see it go up in flames.” Din took another calming breath, shoving images of another burning village, one filled with terrified townspeople and imperial droids, out of his mind. “Just to hear the people scream.” He whispered.

Omera sucked in a breath, and he could see the tears forming in her eyes. She walked around to stand in front of him, placing a hand on each pauldron, and being careful not to upset Vaar’ika’s balance.

“It won’t happen to us. We won’t let it happen.” At his disbelieving grunt, she continued. “Was that other village trained to defend itself by a Mandalorian and rebel shock trooper? I think not. What happened to them is awful, but we’re more prepared, and that’s because of _you_. We can take on anything that comes our way.”

Din looked into Omera’s eyes, although he was unsure what he was searching for. But there was something in them that seemed to calm him down, slowing him to relax a fraction. Not much, but the most he’d done since the aruetiise had arrived. Her eyes were filled with love, compassion, reassurance, and truth, and it made his stomach suddenly do flips. Maybe that was the reason why, in a split second decision, he carefully reached up to hold her arms and leaned forward to gently rest his metal forehead against her own.

  
Omera was unfamiliar with Mandalorian language and traditions, but even she could feel the significance behind Din’s actions. She closed her eyes as she felt the cool beskar resting against her forehead slowly grow warm from her body heat. 

She wasn’t entirely sure what the gesture meant, but she relished the feeling of the Mandalorian in her arms, resting his head against her. It was over all to soon, although she knew they had stood like that for several minutes, listening to each other’s gentle breaths.

“I should go. It’ll be time for breakfast soon, and then I need to help repair their ship.”

Omera nodded, although she wished he didn’t have to leave. But the sooner the ship was finished, the sooner they’d be back to their normal, peaceful lives. The sooner she’d have her gentle, father-like Mandalorian back.

“Yes, I suppose you need to eat before everyone else wakes up.” She watched as the armored warrior knelt down and gently rested a hand on his Child, before standing and giving her one last nod. With a swish of his cape, he was gone.

There was a moment of alarm when she heard something thump onto the roof, but it was quickly replaced by amusement when she heard a muffled “Really? I may let you sit on my shoulder, but it’s not a kriffing springboard.”

Omera smiled to herself. So the Loth-Cat had returned to the roof for its silent vigil. She wasn’t completely sure what it could do against an attack, but she knew she couldn’t judge it for its size and species. It had already saved the children from the Twi’lek’s prying eyes. She would let the feline prove itself before she made any judgement. 

With a sigh, Omera unholstered the blaster Din had provided her, and spun it in her hands as she slid down the wall to sit by the slumbering children. She would continue to guard them, until the danger had past. Hopefully, that would be soon.

  
Din strode back to the village, Kharon and the three aruetiise in tow. He was still incredibly wary, and more paranoid than ever that something bad was about to happen. There was no way everything had gone this smoothly, if you ignore the initial encounter and Xi’an’s curious wandering. But all of that was warring with the relief that he could send them off soon. They had finished repairs to the ship, much sooner than he expected.

Kharon had come along today, and had pointed out that a rather large portion of damage could be salvaged if they made a few smaller tweaks and repairs. When asked how he knew that, he pointed out that while he hadn’t been much of a fighter before Din, he had a way with mechanics. He had to make a living for him and his sister somehow.

The repairs had taken all day to complete, and they had to work a little into the night as well, but it was much quicker than the previous estimated four days. Unfortunately, the newcomers couldn’t just leave immediately. They had to come back to the village to collect the rest of their stuff that they had moved to their borrowed hut. 

At least they would be gone soon. Maybe then this feeling of impending doom would leave him.

As they crossed the path between krill ponds and began to walk into the village, Din nearly startled at something he saw from the corner of his eye. The Child.

Before he could go into a panic, he reminded himself to keep walking, and don’t react. If he didn’t react, maybe the aruetiise wouldn’t notice anything amiss. They never were very observant. And they were distracted easily.

“You Can spend the night here, and then you’re leaving. First thing in the morning.” He didn’t want them doubling back and attacking under the cover of night, so it was probably best to watch them until morning. Then see them to their ship so they could be on their way. Besides, he needed to say _something_ so they wouldn’t look over towards the Child. 

_Why hasn’t anyone grabbed him? Has no one noticed he’s missing yet? _

As if on cue, Cara appeared from behind a hut, scooping the Child up in her arms and turning so that her back was to the newcomers, hiding it from view. Din let out a sigh of relief as she made her way back to the children’s hut. As long as there were no more close calls, they’d be fine.

Din was pleasantly surprised to find that, no, there were no more close calls to be had. It was now early morning, and he and Cara had just escorted the arutiise back to their now functioning ship with breakfast to-go. He no longer felt he had any debt to them, as he reminded himself they were a threat to anyone he cared about, and that he had just helped them. Now, he felt he was free from their years together as a ‘team’. Not from the memories, he would always be plagued with those; but at least now he didn’t feel he owed them.

As they stood watching the ship take off, Cara spoke. “Well, that wasn’t so bad I suppose. No, that wasn’t quite the right wording. Being around those fools was _awful_, but at least it didn’t take the estimated four days of repairs.”

Din gave a small huff. “Small victories.”

“You kidd’n? Getting rid of them is a pretty big victory to me.”

Now Din actually did laugh. “C’mon. They’re probably long gone by now if they jumped into hyperspace. Let’s head back to the village.”

Together, the two companions headed back to their once-more calm village.

  
“Sooooo, did you see what I saw?” Xi’an drawled, draping herself over the back of Mayfeld’s seat.

“How would I know? And get off.” He shoved her arms from the back of his chair, and she glared at him as she almost lost her balance, before punching Burg who had started to laugh.

“That strange green baby. I don’t know what it was, but it looked at me weird.” Xi’an sprawled our on her own chair, with a tired sigh. “It was gross looking, with those big ugly ears.” She grinned. “I wanted it mounted on my wall. Like that _cat_.”

“What?” Mayfeld turned sharply, giving her a weird look. It was annoying.

“I _said_, I wanted it mounte-”

“I _heard_ that. What _baby_ you fool!”

“_Rude_. Why should I tell you, if your going to act like that?” She rolled her eyes at the look he gave her. He was pathetic. “Some nasty green baby, with big eyes and bigger ears. Ugliest thing I ever saw. That’s why I _love_ it.”

Mayfeld grinned, sitting back in his seat. She recognized that look. It usually came right before a lot of money.

“Let’s call in some friends. I believe we met the Rogue Mando, and we have history.”

Xi’an grinned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, sliiiight cliff hanger. But I promise, I’m working on the next chapter rn. If all goes smoothly, I should have something up by later tonight or tomorrow, depending on how much I write and whether ideas flow together nicely.
> 
> Mando’a Translations:
> 
> Ad’ika - Little one
> 
> Aruetiise - Traitors, outsiders, foreigners
> 
> Vaar’ika - Pipsqueak


	15. Loyalty ‘til the End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things go down...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so, so sorry.
> 
> Sorta vivid death description, but not really? Idk if I need a warning for that or not, but here it is...

Din and Kharon we’re practicing battle forms with their vibroblades once more, this time in one of the clear areas just passed the krill ponds, much to the delight of the onlooking village children. Din originally hadn’t wanted to practice where the kids would see them and get ideas, thus the clearing in the forest they had used previously. But it had only been a couple of days since his old team had left, and he wasn’t willing to let the village out of his sight quite yet. Besides, the kids had witnessed raider attacks, and this was much less violent; it’d be good for them to know some self-defense anyway. Maybe he should talk to Omera about giving them lessons...

“You’re doing great, but you’re losing concentration on the battle when you throw rocks. Either find a way to focus better, or get more distance between us before you stop to throw.”

“Easier said then _done_.” Came the reply, as Kharon ducked to dodge yet another blow from the Mandalorian. “You know, _neither_ of those suggestions are as simple as your making them _sound_.”

“Yeah, well, life’s not simple, kid. But if it’s that much trouble, don’t use the Force for now, focus on the technique. Once you get that down, we’ll incorporate your magic fingers.” Din smiled behind his helmet as Kharon grumbled something along the lines of ‘ s’not magic fingers, _you_ have magic fingers’.

“I assure you jetii’ka, I do not have magic fingers.” He said dryly, whilst efficiently dodging an attack from the teen. His only response was an annoyed huff.

As Din decided to finally take down the kid and end the match (like the kid could _actually_ hold up against a Mandalorian in combat for ten minutes, of course Din was going easy) something small, but hard hit him from behind. Stumbling forward, he barely got his ‘blade up in time to counter a strike from Kharon.

“Meg te haran, hibir? I thought we settled on ‘no Force’ this round.” 

Looking at the teen, he was met with a confused expression. “It wasn’t me.”

Din spun around, eyes searching the small crowd of children gathered to watch. _There_. Large green ears were poking out from behind Aariz and Winta’s legs, and if he strained his ears he could hear faint giggles.

“Ni haa’taylir gar, ad’ika. Olaror dayn.” The village children all wore confused expressions at the Mando’a spoken their direction, but the Child came out from behind his friends as told. Grinning, he babbled up at Din from the ground. Walking forwards, Din scooped the Child up and cradled him close to his chest piece. “Getting bored, you little womprat? Let’s se-”

Dyn cut himself off, head snapping around to stare off into the distant skyline as he heard the faint whir of a far off ship. The children jumped st the sudden movement, and some began to look very nervous.

“What is it?” Kharon asked, coming up to stand beside him. 

“I heard a ship in the distance. I don’t anymore, either it’s landed or was heading in the opposite direction.”

“The town is that way, it was probably just someone coming in to trade.” Kharon reasoned, reaching up to pat the Child’s head.

“Maybe so, but better safe than sorry.” Turning, he addressed the group of kids as he handed the Child to Winta. “I want all of you back within the boundaries of the village. You don’t have to go to your Safe Hut unless we tell you, but don’t stray from the village.”

They all nodded, eyes wide, and turned to run back to their parents. They had all seen enough by now to know not to question him or the other adults when told to do something. 

“Practice is finished for today, we should prepare just in case. Let’s go.”

As the two headed back towards the village, Din could only try to ignore the impending feeling of doom pooling in the pit of his stomach. He had a bad feeling about this.

  
Cara watched as a horde of children ran past her, to the center of the village. Spotting Winta carrying the Child, she called out to the girl.

“Winta!” As the girl changed course for the shock trooper, Cara saw the worried look on his face. “What’s going on? Is there trouble?”

“We don’t know. Mando said he heard a ship, and told us to come back here and stay in the village.”

“Well, I’m sure it’ll be fine. You know him, he’s always paranoid. Prob’ly just some traders head’n to town.” She couldn’t quite keep the uncertainty from her voice, and she knew Winta noticed, although the girl chose not to say anything.

“That’s what Kharon said too.” She replied with a nod. 

“Alright, we’ll go find your mother and tell her to get the villagers ready. Keep an eye on the kid for us, would you?”

Winta brightened at being given some tasks, as Cara knew she would. The girl always felt better when she thought she was doing something helpful. Cara watched as she sprinted off, Child babbling in her arms. Turning, she spotted the Mandalorian walking up, trailed by his _other_ kid. Despite the situation, Cara bit back a smile. She wondered if the Mandalorian even _realized_ he was practically adopting every helpless creature he came across. The Child, The Loth-Cat, and now this Force-wielding teen.

Not the time, Cara.

“What you got? Winta says you heard a ship?”

Din nodded, the sun glinting off his shiny beskar. Off in the distance. It either landed in town, or it was going in the opposite direction. It was faint, and disappeared pretty quickly.”

“It’s prob’ly just some traders,” she tried to reassure.

Din gave another nod, and crossed his arms over his chest. “I know. But I have a bad feeling about this, and my intuition is usually right.”

Cara pursed her lips with a tight nod. She would trust her Mandalorian friend; if he said something felt off, something was definitely amiss. “Alright. I told Winta to have Omera get the villagers ready. Want me to hand out weapons?”

“That’d be good, thank you. Kharon and I will stand guard.”

Cara gave a sloppy salute in acknowledgment as she turned and began to walk towards Din’s hut and his ridiculously large stash of weaponry.

  
Din stood at the edge of the village facing the direction of town, keeping watch. Kharon was on the opposite side of the village, Omera was watching the kids, and Cara was supervising the villagers around the rest of the perimeter. Several hours had passed since he heard the ship, but he hadn’t seen or heard anything out of the ordinary. Other than the chirping of birds and rustling of small animals he had heard earlier, there was only the sound of the breeze rustling the leaves.

_Wait_. The chirping of birds and rustling of small animals he had heard _earlier_.

_When did they stop?_

Suddenly hyper aware of his surroundings, Din realized it had been several long minutes since he’d heard anything other than the breeze and distant, quiet chatter of villagers. Vaar’ika came from seemingly nowhere to leap onto his shoulder and rub her little face against his helmet with an agitated chatter.

“You noticed too, huh?” Din turned on his lifted his wrist and commed Cara. “Tell the villagers to be on standby, stay alert. Somethings not right. I haven’t hea- _agh!_”

Din stumbled backward, clutching his shoulder at the stabbing pain from a well-placed shot. Vaar’ika was unbalanced, and tumbled gracelessly from his shoulder with a startled yowl.

_“Hey! Mando, you alright? Din? I’m coming to you!”_ Cara’s worried voice called through the comlink. 

Din spun and ducked behind a hut, Vaar’ika hot on his heels. Lifting his wrist, he was about to respond to Cara, but there was no need. She was already running over, and was crouched by his side seconds later.

“You alright? Lemme see.” She pried his fingers from his arm, and inspected the wound. “Kriff. Well, it’s not bad, but you need some bacta. It’ll hurt like heck while you fight though.” She finished, concern evident in her voice.

“Nah, I’ve had worse, and fought with worse.”

“How much worse?”

“Ever seen a mudhorn?”

“Oh boy, please tell me this isn’t going where I think it’s going.”

_“Is now really the time?”_ Omera’s voice rang through the com channel, clearly annoyed and agitated. _“The kids are in the hut, I’m standing guard. Now cut the chatter and get rid of those guys already.”_

“Alright, alright, fine.” Cara muttered. Peering around the side of the hut, they tried to pinpoint where exactly the shot had come from. “Did you see where they were?”

“Oh, yeah, you know. Somewhere over _there_.” Din exaggeratedly gestured to the entirety of the forest in front of them. At Cara’s unimpressed look he continued. “Well, what the kriff did you _expect_?”

“I expected the Mandalorian to be able to know where he was shot from. My bad, grumpy.” She rolled her eyes and continued to scan the forest.

“Well, sorry to disappoint, but not even Mandalorians have x-ray vision. And of course I’m grumpy, I was _shot_.”

“You’ve had worse.” She said as she smirked at him.

“And I’ve been grumpier.” He grumbled. “Alright, we can’t just sit here all day and wait for the, to come to us.”

“Well, What do you suggest? Can’t really do anything until we know where they are.” Cara’s tone was clearly annoyed. She didn’t want to sit waiting any longer than Din did, which was part of the reason she liked to joke around so much while they did. It helped both of them cope.

Din sat and thought for a few moments. “Vaar’ika, k’olar!”

The Loth-Cat immediately trotted over from where she had been crouched, tilting her head with a curious _mrr?_ Cara started at him as if he was crazy when he handed the cat a small tracking device. Maybe he was.

“Find the beroya, please?” With a quick chirrup, Vaar’ika grabbed the tracker in her large mouth and streaked off toward the surrounding forest. Din punched a few buttons on his vambrance, and the coordinates for the tracker popped up.

“Excuse me?” Din turned to see Cara gaping at him in shock and confusion. He forgot others had yet to witness Vaar’ika’s impressive displays of intelligence and intuition. Although, thinking back, he recalled Cara making fun of him for befriending the little Loth-Cat.

“I seem to remember something along the lines of ‘Aw, the bounty hunters got another little friend’? Kriffing right I do, you shoulda known it was going to be a good one.”

Cara started in shock for a few moments, before raising her eybrows and letting out a low whistle. “Dang, Mandalorians got sass!”

With a sigh, he continued watching the coordinates change on his vambrance’s small screen. “I blame the blaster wound.”

“Aaaaand, he’s back to grumpy.”

“Shut up.” The coords stopped changing, and Din paused. He wanted to make sure she had actually found something, and wasn’t just getting her bearings before continuing on. When they continued to stay the same, he swung his pulse rifle from his back, and began to aim into the trees.

“Sure this will work? It’s a forest; you’re blind to his location, and there’s gonna be trees in the way.” Cara watched skeptically as he took aim in the direction of the coordinates.

“He had a clear shot, so will I.”

He fired. In the distance, there was a sharp cry of pain. Din turned to smirk triumphantly through his visor at Cara. He knew she’d be able to tell, even with the helmet. “Got them.”

Cara wrinkled her nose in annoyance. They were standing up when an alarmed yowl rang through the trees. Vaar’ika was streaking back towards them, tail fluffed up beyond its normal size (how that was possible, Din didn’t know) and fur standing on end. Reaching them, she turned to hiss back in the direction of the trees.

“Guys, be on guard. We have company.” Cara spoke into her wrist com to alert the villagers around the village. “...guys? Report in if you can hear me.”

Silence.

Cara shared an uneasy glance with Din, before a motion in the trees pulled their attention back to the forest. A figure was making its way towards them. Din squinted, trying to make out what it was. It looked like a...

“_Kriff_.”

Cara glanced over in alarm at the heartfelt swear. “What? What is it?”

“IG unit, bounty hunter droid.”

“_Kriff_.”

“My words exactly. Now get down before it sees you.”

The two ducked back down behind the hut, Vaar’ika sidling in beside them. Cara tried her com again, to see if she could get ahold of any of the villagers.

“They couldn’t have been shot, we’d have heard it.” Din reasoned, mind racing as he tried to figure out what could have happened to them. None of the small groups of village guards were stationed near him, as they had decided a Mandalorian was more than capable of guarding this section on his own. Now he was regretting that decision, as he would have been able to protect them if they were closer.

_“Hello? Cara, are you there? It’s Aishah.”_

“Loud and clear.” Cara responded into her com, relief evident in her voice. “But I thought Hakim was your group leader?”

_“He was. He just... collapsed. There’s some sort of dart sticking out of his neck. As far as we know, it’s the same with the other groups, members collapsing with darts in them.”_

“_Haar’chak_! Trandoshan blow darts. Take them out and they should wake soon, but we’re gonna have company.” Din said through gritted teeth.

_“Got it. We’re ready to defend our village.” _

Din had no doubt it was true. Turning to Cara, he spoke once more.

“Expect a Trandoshan somewhere around here, goes by Zissh Svec. He’s an infamous bounty hunter, known for taking out his prey with sleeping darts before going in for the kill. He’s a hut’uun if you ask me, but he always gets the job done. You help protect the villagers, I’ll take care of the IG.”

With a nod, Cara was off. He trusted her to get the job done; after all. He had fought her himself before, and he knew she was a highly capable and formidable opponent. He almost felt bad for the Trandoshan.

Din turned his attention back to the IG unit. He needed to get close to do any damage through the armor, it seemed like an upgrade from the unit that had tried to kill the Child. He didn’t think his blaster would do the job this time. 

If he could get up close with his smaller vibroblade... he was fairly certain it would cut through. The problem was the self-destruct feature.

Climbing up to the roof of the hut, he crouched on top and waited for the IG to get closer. That was the problem with IGs. They weren’t good at looking up. Vaar’ika crouched beside him, keeping watch. Distantly, he heard a fight break out. He pushed his worry for the villagers to the back of his mind to focus on the task at hand. 

When the droid was close enough, he leapt. With a swift quick, it was on the ground. It had its blaster trained on him in seconds, but he quickly grabbed it and twisted it out of its metal hand. As he tossed it aside, one of the droids legs suddenly kicked up and hit him hard in the back. With a sharp cry, he fell forward, tumbling to the ground and barely rolling out of the way of another kick.

As they both scrambled to their feet, Din whipped out his vibroblade and lunged forward, managing to slice through one of its legs enough that it couldn’t properly stand upright.

_“Initiating self-destruct seque-“_

With a quick flick of his wrist, Din’s vibroblade was imbedded deep in the IG unit’s head. Quickly checking that both the droid and self-destruct bomb were disabled, Din yanked his ‘blade out of the metal and put it in its sheath. 

“Let’s go Vaar’ika.”

The two raced off to where the sounds of battle were coming from. Rounding a corner, the found several injured villagers crawling towards the huts on the outskirts of the fight for extra shelter, while others covered for them. Crouched behind some crates was none other than Mayfeld, his robotic arm as well as both human ones firing at random. He seemed to care less about hitting the villagers, and more like he was taking pleasure from seeing them scramble.

A little ways away, he could see Cara Dune keeping the Devaronian, Burg he recalled, busy. She seemed like she had it under control for now, the large di’kut of a being was having trouble keeping up with her in the wide open space.

Din slipped back around the hut, and gave a wide berth to the fight as he circled around. He was sure to keep an eye on his surroundings. He had no clue how many hunters there were, or whether Xi’an or Zissh Svec had been taken care of yet.

Coming up behind Mayfeld was almost too easy. He was as unobservant as usual, and too arrogant to believe he really had anything to look out for. He had always made fun of Din for being paranoid, yet he was never paranoid _enough_, especially for their particular line of work. Well, it was coming back to bite him now. 

With a quick shot from Din’s blaster, the robotic arm was flying off Mayfeld’s mechanical pack as the man himself spun around to aim his guns at Din. Too little, too late. Din grabbed one arm and twisted, throwing the shot’s aim off. At the same time, he slammed the butt of his own blaster into Mayfeld’s other wrist, causing him to drop his weapon. 

Mayfeld’s eyes widened in fear as he stared at the Mandalorian, now disarmed. “What, your not just gonna kill me, are you? After all we’ve been through together? We were a team, Mando.” Mayfeld’s voice had a slight tremor in it, and Din almost, _almost_ felt bad.

“I owe you nothing, not anymore. You didn’t think this through, did you.” It was a statement, not a question. Yes, they _were _a team, so Din knew all about Mayfeld’s awful strategical planning skills.

Mayfeld was beginning to full on panic, reaching out for the right words in a desperate attempt to spare himself from the warrior he had spent so many years taunting. “What about your Creed, huh? That allow you Mandos to kill an innocent, defenseless man?”

“You were attacking an innocent, village with no provocation, and I just disarmed you. You were hardly defenseless when you were gunning down villagers.”

“We weren’t just ‘attacking an innocent village’ for no reason, they’re harboring our bounty.”

Din’s head snapped back to Din from his scanning of the nearby trees. “Bounty?”

Mayfeld’s eyes seemed to widen impossibly further as he realized his mistake. He really did have no clue what tact was.

“I believe you mean my Foundling who, by the Creed, I am sworn to protect with my life.” Din raised his blaster, and Mayfeld was no more. The Mandalorian stepped over the body, moving to help take down the Devaronian. Cara would tire eventually, and she wouldn’t be able to dodge all the attacks.

Din started toward the fight at a jog, mentally calculating different fight outcomes based on the speed and force with which the Devaronian charged. As Cara dodged another blow, the Devaronian took notice of the Mandalorian jogging towards him. Cara stepped back as, with a grin, the giant of a being turned to run towards the Mandalorian as well. 

At the Devaronian’s quicker pace, Din sped up to match it, lifting his arm and shooting his cable out. Burg sidestepped it and kept running with a laugh as it wrapped around a large tree behind him. “You missed, metal head.”

Burg quickened his gait once more, followed by Din, and then they were both full on sprinting. At the last possible second, Din dropped and slid feet-first past the Devaronian, ducking under outstretched arms. As he slid, he rolled onto his stomach and shot the opposite end of his cable at the retreating Devaronian’s legs. “No I didn’t.”

Unable to stop his momentum, the Devaronian crashed to the ground as the line pulled taught. In a flash, Din flung his vibroblade at the larger being, ending his life quickly and efficiently. Scrambling up and striding forward, he pulled his ‘blade from Burg’s back. He made a disgusted face as he wiped it on the grass.

As he walked to Cara, some of the less injured villagers began to creep forward and inspect the scene, while others knelt to tend to their wounded.

“Impressive.” Cara said, gesturing to the Devaronian’s body.

Din nodded in acknowledgment. “Thanks. Did you take care of Svec?”

Cara made a face. “Yes. It’s no wonder he shot sleeping darts first, his hand-to-hand was bantha fodder.”

Din nodded again. What more could you expect from a hut’uun like that? “What about Xi’an?” 

“Who?”

Din spun around as a distant shout rang out. Omera, who was guarding the children. Oh, kriff no. He thought as he and Cara started running, Vaar’ika streaking past them. 

Vaar’ika heard the Kind Woman, Omera, shout out in fear and anger, and she immediately knew there was trouble. Omera had been protecting the village kits, including the Ad’ika she had sworn to protect. She would not let her Finder Father down.

She raced off toward ps the center of the village, her Finder Father and the Warrior Lady close behind. Up ahead, her large ears picked up the sounds of a scuffle. A cry of pain and a large thud spurred her on. Racing around a final corner, She skidded to a halt to gather her bearings. Omera lay on the ground, a deep gash in her leg preventing her from getting up as she desperately tried to protect the kits. Omera gave another desperate shout as the pinkish-purple headtails of the Twi’lek disappeared through the doorway of the Kit’ Hut. 

Omera’s head turned, her eyes meeting Vaar’ika’s with a silent plea. Her Finder Father’s steps thudded ever closer, but Vaar’ika knew he would be too late, and this time he would not have several hours to prepare. Racing across the final stretch, Vaar’ika sprinted into the Kit’ Den as fast as her talons would carry her. 

Upon seeing her kits cowering at the far side of the hut, the ugly Twi’lek standing over them with a sadistic gleam in her eyes, Vaar’ika did what she knew best. She leapt.

Throwing herself onto the Twi’lek, she clawed her way up the headtails with a yowl, and dug her claws into the Foul One’s face. She felt the same familiar tear of flesh as all of her prey as the skin was ripped open, leaving a deep gash across the Twi’lek’s face.

With a scream of pain and fury, the Twi’lek ripped her off and threw her across the room. Hitting the far wall Vaar’ika slid down and slumped to the ground, too stunned to move. The Twi’lek turned back to the crying children before her. 

“You,” She said pointing at the Ad’ika. “Are _mine_.” 

The Twi’lek pulled out a throwing knife. Vaar’ika struggled to her feet, feeling the world sway around her. Her Finder Father’s footsteps were just outside, but not close enough. She wouldn’t, couldn’t fail him.

The Twi’lek threw the knife.

Vaar’ika launched herself forward, one last time.

The blade passed through her soft fur and pierced her skin, burying itself deep within her tiny little body. Vaar’ika stumbled, and collapsed to the ground. The Mandalorian burst through the doorway, and the Twi’lek was immediately dropped with a shot to the back. Her Finder Father’s familiar visored gaze fell on her, lying in front of the Child, and he froze. But her mission was complete.

The lesson her mother had drilled into her during the short time they had together played itself in her head. ‘Do what you must to follow the way of the Loth-Cat. Your Finder will come, eventually. They will raise you as their own, and you shall provide for them in return. Always remember, Little One,”

Vaar’ika closed her eyes, as the adrenaline of the Hunt left and her remaining energy seeped from her body like the blood she felt trickling from the blade. She closed her eyes, and remembered:

“Loyalty ‘til the End.”

  
Din stood frozen, shock and horror coursing through his veins. His furry friend, his companion, his _prudii’ka_ he’d heard Cara call her once... his Vaar’ika. 

She was lying on the ground in a pool of her own blood, one of Xi’an’s throwing knives imbedded in her soft fur, now stained red. Din took a shaky step forward, and crouched next to the little body, always small, but never seeming this _tiny_. She was always lively enough to make up for her size.

Now, with her small form taking its last shallow breaths, she seemed minuscule. Din ripped of a glove, and gently caressed her little face with his bare hand before resting it on her side, carefully avoiding the knife and wound.

“Wil- Will she be gone....?” Came a tentative voice. He had nearly forgotten the other children were here. He briefly glanced up to meet their tear-stained, horror-stricken faces before looking back down at his beloved companion.

He knew what Winta was trying to ask. _Will she die?_

Din took a deep breath and replied with the traditional Mandalorian tribute. “Nu kyr’adyc, shi taab’echaaj’la. Not gone, merely marching far away.” He said quietly. 

Winta nodded, even as more tears began to fall freely down her face. Some of the other children had begun to sob.

Dimly, Din registered Cara running in to see what was taking so long- she had stopped to check on Omera as he continued after the auruetii. He felt more than saw the moment she realized what was happening, and froze behind him. 

The Mandalorian continued to gently stroke the soft fur, until a last shuddering breath went through her little body. And then she was still.

Din bowed his head, vaguely feeling a tear slip down his cheek. Right now, he couldn’t bring himself to care. 

“Ni su’cuyi, gar kyr’adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum. Vaar’ika, cuun cabur’ika.” He gave a moment of silence out of respect before translating for the others in the room. “I’m still alive, but you are dead. I remember you, so you are eternal. Vaar’ika, our little guardian.”

A loud, ear-piercing wail erupted through the room and causing several children to jump and cover their ears as the Child comprehended what was going on. With ears drooping and his mouth hanging open as he let out another wail, the Child toddled forwards with his arms outstretched. Reaching the cat, he buried his face in her fur, grabbing the soft fluff with his little fingers.

If Din’s heart had already broken from today’s turn of events, now it was shattered. Reaching forward, he gently pulled the knife from his companion’s body, setting it aside. He would deal with it appropriately later.

Glancing up, he saw the Child’s face turn from one of helpless sorrow and distress, to one of fierce determination. It closed its eyes, ears pricked in concentration. Din sucked in a startled breath as he realized what was happening, earning a confused look from Cara and the children. Their confused expressions quickly turned to ones of shock and wonder as the Child slowly knitted flesh and tissue back together, and Forced the heart to begin pumping once more.

The job wasn’t nearly done when the Child collapsed, but it was enough. Blood had started flowing from the wound again, showing that the heart had begun to pump once more. Cara forcefully shoved him out of the way, kneeling over the Loth-Cat and beginning to perform CPR on the little body. They needed to get her breathing. 

They all waited in a tense silence for what seemed like forever before the little cat took a breath of her own. And another. And another.

“She needs some bacta for that wound, _now_.” Cara snapped. Din nodded, and held out his arms as Cara lifted the little creature. Cradling it gently to his body, he took off at a run. Sprinting passed a very scared, and very confused Omera, (he felt bad for not explaining, but there was no time) he made it to his hut in record time. Tearing through his supplies, he found bacta and bandages for the little cat.

Carefully applying the medicinal bacta (to both him and the cat), and wrapping the small feline in bandages, he finally sat back with a sigh of relief. Someone knocked on the door, and Din turned his head to see one of the villagers standing uncertainly in the doorway, cradling the slumbering Child. 

“Cara said to bring him to you...”

“Thank you, bring him here please.” The villagers passed through the flower curtains to lay the Child beside Din, and quickly retreated.

Sitting on his cot with his Loth-Cat in his lap, and his ad’ika slumbering by his side, Din closed his eyes. The bounty hunters were all gone, and there was no longer a threat from his old team of aruetiise. His ad’ika was safe, and his Vaar’ika was alive. That was all he could ask for right now. For the time being, they were going to be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All’s well that ends well? 
> 
> Mando’a Translations:
> 
> Jetii’ka - Little Jedi (idk if this really makes since used like this, I sorta made it up)
> 
> Meg te haran, hibir? - What the heck, student? 
> 
> Ni haa’taylir gar, ad’ika. Olaror dayn. - I see you Little One. Come out.
> 
> Beskar - Mandalorian iron
> 
> K’olar - Come here (command)
> 
> Beroya - bounty hunter 
> 
> Hut’uun - coward (worst possible insult for a Mando)
> 
> Prudii’ka - Little shadow (‘Cause Vaar’ika follows him around everywhere)
> 
> Aruetii - traitor
> 
> Aruetiise - traitors
> 
> I left out the ones that had Translations next to them, as well as the more obvious ones. Now I shall go to bed. I need sleep.


	16. Recovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The road to recovery is short and sweet with a Force user to speed up the process!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really needed to write something to help myself feel better about the last chapter. Vaar’ika deserves better than me, honestly.

A tracker.... Find the beroya... the Metal Armed Man... the Red Beast... the Twi'lek and the Ad’ika...

_The Twi’lek and the Ad’ika._

Vaar’ika snapped awake, eyes wide and ears pricked in sudden alertness. Had she failed her Finder Father? Was the Ad’ika safe? Where were the kits? 

Slowly, it all began to come back to her; the knife, the sharp pain, and then... nothingness?

Her mother had told her of death, of the nothingness that came to collect your soul, should you die. It was the most honorable death to die for one’s Finder, or for your Finder’s cause. Had she done that? If so, why was she here?

Vaar’ika lifted her head to look around. She was laying on her Finder Father’s lap, the Ad’ika fast asleep beside them (she could hear the soft snores that indicated the Mandalorian was slumbering as well). Her side ached, but not nearly as much as she thought it should. There was a strange, chemical smell coming from beneath the weird looking and strangely wide white grass that people liked to wrap around their injuries. Now that she was paying attention, the same smell was coming from the White Grass on her Finder Father’s arm, where he had been shot.

Vaar’ika slowly clambered to her feet. She could hold her own weight, but everything was spinning. Closing her eyes, she braced herself and shook her head, her large ears flopping from side to side. When she opened them, everything was a little clearer, but not by much. The room still seemed to tilt awkwardly beneath her paws.

Vaar’ika let out an agitated mew, and the ground below her jolted. 

No, not ground, she realized. She was in the Mandalorian’s lap. Looking up, her eyes met the Shiny Face of her Finder Father. She chose to ignore the extra faint outline of him, curtesy of the double-vision plaguing her along with the spinning rooms. She let out another small mewl, annoyed at how weak it sounded to her own ears. She was a fierce predator, a Hunter for goodness sakes! She couldn’t afford to sound weak!

But the Mandalorian seemed to melt at the pitiful sound, reaching down and gently picking her little body up, holding her close to his chest. She dimly registered that he had removed his gloves when he reached up to scratch around her chin and behind her ears, her eyes narrowing in pleasure.

“Su’cuy ner’cabur’ika.” He murmured. Vaar’ika’s little heart leapt with joy at the title. _Hello my Little Guardian._ She was his Little Guardian. What better honor could there possibly be for a Loth-Cat determined to serve her Finder?

The Mandalorian let out a little huff at the loud, rumbling purr that escaped her. Cuddling her close, he continued to gently stroke her soft fur, ever careful of the White Grass that wrapped around her wound. 

They stayed that way for a while, Vaar’ika listening to the soft, comforting breaths of her Finder, when her ears pricked. The Ad’ika’s steady, deep breaths had begun to pick up, and she knew it’d wake soon. 

Upon noticing her alertness, the Mandalorian had frozen. She knew he always took her changes in behavior very seriously, as she always was the first to know of changes in or around the village. That was one of her many reasons she loved her Finder Father; she knew not all Finders were as ready to listen to their animal companions as hers was.

Not wanting to alarm him, she narrowed her eyes in contentment and lazily angled her large ears towards the sleeping kit’. Following her pointed ears, the Mandalorian turned his head just in time to see the Ad’ika open its eyes with a yawn. It blinked blearily up at them, before it’s eyes widened and it’s ears perked up. With an opened mouth grin, the kit’ gave a delighted cry as it reached up for her.

Vaar’ika felt another rush of joy as she let her tail dangle just out of its reach, swishing it gently back and forth. She felt her Finder Father watching on in amusement, even as she focused solely on the game at hand. After a few minutes of the fun, she wrapped her large, fluffy tail around the kit’, much to its delight. The danger had passed, and she had gotten to serve her Finder and live. Everything was good.

Vaar’ika limped slowly through the village. Thanks to the Ad’ika, her side was mostly healed. It had been two days since she had woken on her Finder Father’s lap, and every night before bed the kit’ had insisted on resting its little clawed hands on her side. Each time she felt a strange, tingling sensation before the Ad’ika collapsed, and each time she felt a little better. She was now allowed to walk through the village, although she hadn’t wanted to stretch it by running and leaping quite yet.

The bodies of the bounty hunters were no longer lying around. She had heard her Finder speaking with the Warrior Lady (Cara, she was now certain that was her name) and Omera about it. He had said something about them most likely bringing in good money, and said he would freeze them in car-bun-night, whatever that was. The two women had agreed, and the bodies had disappeared soon after.

Vaar’ika’s ears flicked around at the sound of many pounding footsteps. Pausing her morning stroll, she turned and sat down to wait. A moment later, the village kits ran around a corner to swarm around her. 

Vaar’ika purred as she let them stroke her soft fur, flicking her ears in amusement. The kits were very gentle with her, careful of her wound. She was thankful for that, just as she was thankful for all the little scraps the kits had been secretly leaving outside her Finder Father’s den. After each meal the villagers partook in (really three times a day and snacks? Is it necessary for people to eat that much?) some of Vaar’ika’s favorite types of scraps were left outside the den. Whether the Mandalorian knew about it or not, he never said anything.

“You’re such a good kitty!”

“Thank you, Vaar’ika.”

“We love you so, so much! We’re so sorry you had to die...”

”You saved us!”

“Gah!”

The last one came from the Ad’ika, and caused Vaar’ika to _mrrow_ in amusement. The little kit’ was patting her face with its clawed fingers, while the other village kits stroked the rest of her body. One of them scratched behind her ear, and she purred some more. There was no greater honor than serving her Finder and being the cabur’ika of these kits.

Speaking of her Finder, that’s what she was about to do. Watch her Finder partake in his daily spar with the older kit’, Kharon. With one last _mrr_ to the kits and a flick of her tail, Vaar’ika stood and began to head towards the field that had been being used as practice. 

The Mandalorian had yet to move their training back to the forest clearing, supposedly out of caution for bounty hunters. But Vaar’ika had a sneaking suspicion that it had something to do with her not being able to go out into the forest yet. It was dangerous for an animal as small as herself, predator or not, to be out in a forest injured. She had marked many of the creatures out their as prey, but given the chance she knew they would delightedly turn the tables and hunt her.

So instead of returning to her forest territory, she begrudgingly decided that she should stay in the village for now. And the Mandalorian did so as well.

Vaar’ika sat on the edge of the field, and carefully began to wash herself. She watched as the village kits gathered nearby, picking up reeds and sticks before attempting to copy her Finder Father and Kharon’s moves in mini duels with each other. As amusing as it was, Vaar’ika couldn’t help but notice that some actually had quite a bit of potential. High up on that list were Winta and Aariz. She knew them both, and was proud at their newfound skills. Winta was just as kind as her mother, and was always checking in on Vaar’ika to see if the injured Cat seemed to need anything. Aariz’s mother was one of the best cooks, and he took after her. When Vaar’ika was newer to the village, she had found him practicing a recipe he had made up while all the other villagers and kits were outside. She had watched him, and he had let her help taste test. Since then, he always came to find her before he began one of his secret cooking sprees. For the past two days, he had _happened_ to be practicing on some of her favorite dishes. Maybe he was the one leaving her snacks? 

As the Mandalorian disarmed Kharon, the two stopped for a short break. Coming over to where the children were play dueling, her Finder sat down beside her, stretching out his legs as he scratched one of her sweet spots at the base of her head.

The Ad’ika toddled over, chattering to the Mandalorian in that non-sensical way of his, and climbed onto the Mandalorians lap. Reaching over, it began to play with one of her large ears. As the three of them sat together and watched Kharon try to give pointers to the dueling kits, Vaar’ika let her mind wander.

While she would have gladly given her life for the village kits and her Finder, she was happy to have this second chance at life. There was an old folklore on Lothal about Loth-Cats having nine lives. Maybe there was some truth behind it after all.

After all, as she had heard her Finder Father say once before, ‘_haat o’r an nuhune_’. Many a true word spoken in jest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I needed to show Vaar’ika I still loved her, so here we are! I hope y’all enjoyed!
> 
> Mando’a Translations:
> 
> Beroya - Bounty hunter
> 
> Su’cuy ner’cabur’ika - Hello my little Guardian 
> 
> Cabur’ika - Little Guardian
> 
> Haat o’r an nuhune - Many a true word spoken in jest
> 
> Also, for clarification: the Metal Arm Man refers to Mayfeld and the mechanical pack that he uses to shoot, the Red Beast is Burg, the strange chemical smell was bacta, and the White Grass is, of course, bandages. Thank you for reading!


	17. Stowaway(s)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Din and Kharon leave to find Kharon’s sister, meaning Din gets a break from people, right?
> 
> ...right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, I am so so SO sorry! I know, I’m a jerk, I left you all hanging. One day I was on a writing spree, then some things came up, I went back to write some more and had a MASSIVE case of writer’s block. Then every time I tried to write I would for some reason freak out and end up postponing it even more... sorry!
> 
> Second, as I’m sure some of you have noticed... there are a limited amount of chapters left. Yes, I am wrapping up the story. It’s been lots of fun writing this, and I’m so glad I did (i still can’t believe I got the guts to post in the first place) but I think it’s time to end it. If you think about it though, this was originally supposed to be a one-shot based on a dream I had that just sorta...kept going? Anyway, I apologize to anyone who wanted it to keep going. But let’s be honest, with the time I take between updates *cough* three months *cough* it wasn’t like you were really getting a story anyway... again, super sorry about that. 
> 
> I hope you all enjoy, I have most of the remaining chapters written. I’m on the last one, but I figured I should sleep. I just kinda made myself get my iPad, lay down, and start writing. Speaking of which, my brother’s cat fell asleep on my arm at some point and I didn’t have the heart to move him, so there may be a few more spelling errors than usual. Anyways, enjoy!

Din sighed as he leaned back, feeling a few pops as he stretched. He had just gotten into open space, setting the course for hyperspace and putting the Razor Crest on autopilot. A little over a week had passed since the... _excitement_ of his old team wreaking havoc on the village, and for a little over a week Din had been putting off the inevitable. The whole debacle had made it abundantly clear that Kharon was perfectly capable of fending for himself. It was time for him to return to his sister.

Din didn’t know why he was holding off so long— after all, he hadn’t wanted anything to do with the kid at first. Something about the teen had just grown on him. Din sighed, irritated with himself. For kriff’s sake, what type of self-respecting mando lets himself get attached to a random teenager? Or child? Or little girl. Or said girl’s mother... or a kriffing cat? 

How did he become a feared Mandalorian again?

With a huff, Din abruptly stood and made his way down the ladder into the ship’s hold. He had left the Child in it’s usual cubby, sound asleep. He should probably make sure it hadn’t woken up and destroyed the interior of his ship...

Din gave a small sigh of relief when he found the Child sitting where he had left it, although it _had_ woken up. In fact, the only reason it _hadn’t_ torn apart his ship in boredom, was probably _the young girl currently entertaining it._

“Gah!” 

The Child gave a delighted gurgle as it turned towards him, large ears twitching up and down. Din forced himself to unfreeze, and scooped up the Child as it reached towards him. Turning to Winta, he tried not to completely panic...

“What the _actual ever-loving kriff_ are you doing on my ship? Your mother will _kill_ me for this!”

Panic? Who’s panicking? Not him, he’s a Mandalorian. Mandalorians don’t panic. It’s not in their vocabulary. 

Oh well.

It could be worse.

Din stared at Winta through his helmet’s visor as she lowered her head and raised her eyes to look sheepishly up at him. Din stopped to take a calming breath when a sudden weight dropped on his shoulder, followed by a bout of laughter.

_Mrrrr_? A round, furry head shoved against his visor, obscuring his view. Setting down the happily babbling Child, din lifted the little Loth-Cat away from his face and turned to glare at the teen sitting across the ship’s hold.

“And why is this funny? She was _supposed_ to stay at the _village_, and finish _healing_. And _you_” He turned back to Winta, choosing to ignore the still laughing teen. “Are supposed to be at the village as well. With your _mother_.”

“Does it help if her mother came too?”

Din spun around to face the source of the voice, the same calm, loving voice he’d learned to love as well. Omera walked out from behind a stack of crates, a sheepish look to rival Winta’s own stretched across her face. “We hoped you wouldn’t mind... and that if you did, it would be too late to turn back?”

Din closed his eyes and sighed at the inquiry. Unfortunately, it _was_ too late to turn back. Although... he couldn’t quite say he was completely opposed to Omera’s presence...

“Are there any _other_ stowaways I should know about?” He asked, exasperation lacing his tone. Really, were they trying to stress him out? They were lucky he was paranoid and always stocked up on everything, at least they’d have enough supplies to last them the trip. 

_Well, at least there’s no one else_. Din opened his eyes once more... to see Omera and Winta turning their sheepish expressions back toward the stack of crates. A sudden loud snort came from the other side, causing his head to snap towards it from pure instinct. Turning towards the crates and setting the Cat on his shoulder in one swift motion, Din strode over to the stack and rounded the corner...

To find none other than Cara Dune snoring away on a makeshift cot.

Turning to the nearest wall, Din silently allowed his head to fall forward and hit it with a metallic _clang_. It was a little harder than he intended, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Not with four more passengers than he intended, and an annoyingly loud teen howling with laughter. Why him?

  
*****

  
As the ship made a sudden jolt, Din leapt up and thrusted the Child into Omera’s arms, running for the ladder. They had come out of hyperspace a few minutes ago and, after checking that everything was running smoothly up top, Din had gone back down to visit with the rest of the people on the ship. Cara had woken up, and they had all engaged in a lively conversation... (*cough* Din and Cara bickering *cough*). Now, Din sat down in his chair and began flipping switches to try and stabilize the _Razor Crest_. The space in front of the ship was completely clear, so something must have hit them from behind...

His suspicions were proven well founded a moment later, when red streaks of laser fire began flying past the ship. A bounty hunter. Distantly, Din took note of Cara settling into a chair behind and to the right of him, leaning forward with her hand on the shoulder of his own seat to get a better view. Kharon took the seat on his left.

Someone connected to the com frequency of his ship as the laser fire continued to streak by.

“Hand over the child Mando.” Another shot hit it’s mark, and the ship jolted once more. “I might let you live.”

“Hold on.” Din barely gave any warning to his passengers before spinning the ship into a quick nose dive and leveling it out again, in an attempt to throw the attacker off and line up for a shot of his own. Kharon let out a yelp, quickly strapping himself in before he could fall out of his seat.

Unfortunately, their attacker’s ship was much smaller and slimmer, and way easier to maneuver than his own. They stayed right on his tail the whole time. “Come on...” he muttered. Cara gave a sympathetic grunt, craning her neck as if she’d be able to see the attacker behind them better.

The voice came over the com once more, this time with a hint of condescending mockery. “I can bring you in warm... or I can bring you in cold...”

The others in the cockpit felt the sudden change as their Mando tensed up. Din abruptly spun the engines to go in reverse, the _Razor Crest_ scraping along the bottom side of the enemy ship as he dropped behind them. Watching the blinking outline of the enemy ship on his radar, he lined up for the shot.

“That’s my line.” Din’s voice was cold as he took his shot, and a strangled scream echoed over the com channel before it was suddenly silenced, the ship bursting into flames in front of them. Cara and Kharon let out loud _whoops_ and cheers as they flew through the fiery debris of the other ship, before they quickly quieted themselves. There were still flashing lights and alarms telling them that their own transportation wasn’t doing so great...

“Losing fuel” Din muttered. He quickly shut the ship down.

“What are you doing? Don’t we kinda need to... y’know... be able to fly while in space?” Kharon seemed a little worried and very confused.

Getting up from his seat, Din walked to the back of the cockpit.“If we run outta fuel, we’re stranded in space. Not a good way to die. But I come prepared.” He quickly switched on the emergency power generator he had installed in his ship years back after a... somewhat similar episode, now that he thought about it. “Relax, kid.”

Walking over to the ladder, he called down to the people (and cat) below. “You okay down there?”

“We’re all good! A little shaken up, but we’ll be fine.” Omera smiled up from below, and he nodded in acknowledgment before turning back to the ship controls, a small smile of his own forming on his face beneath the helmet. 

Taking the controls, he began to guide the ship toward the large, sandy planet in front of them.

“Well that was a convenient place to nearly get shot down. Look kid, your destinations right there!” Cara joked, lightly punching the teen’s arm. 

“Ow, geez, whatever. Let’s just focus on the task, yeah?” Even through the grumpy words, the excitement of seeing his sister was clear in his eyes. The kid really couldn’t wait to be reunited. Din just hoped everything ran more smoothly from here on out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if the writing is a bit awkward at first, it’s been awhile since I wrote... I hope you enjoyed, I’m not sure how the ending is. I really don’t want it to be an awkwardly written, forced ending, but I’m tired of waiting for my writer’s block to go away, so i’m Just going for it. I hope all you lovely readers have a wonderful day, thanks for sticking with the story even though I’m a jerk who left you hanging for three kriffing months! 💜 
> 
> (I’ll try to update every other day, if I don’t feel free to yell at me”


	18. Tatooine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arrival on Tatooine and meeting a mechanic. Things are looking up!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are so many better things I could be doing right now... like sleeping... it is currently 12:06 am and I have had a massive headache since at least 5:00 pm, so yay. I really don’t know why I’m uploading now, I could wait for tomorrow morning or afternoon. But I’m up anyway ‘cause I was helping my mom, and I really don’t wanna do homework. Anyways, I hope y’all enjoy the next chapter! So far I’m on schedule for posting every other day, but my WiFi has been iffy, so keep your fingers crossed. On to the story!

Omera followed close behind the Mandalorian as the ship’s ramp began to lower. They had landed on the desert planet of Tatooine, and Din said he was hoping to get a mechanic to fix the ship while he and Kharon looked for Kharon’s sister. Of course, she couldn’t tell for sure, but Omera was nearly positive she had heard a hint of sadness in the Mando’s voice as he had laid out the plan for everyone else. She couldn’t help but wonder how he would cope when the kid was gone. As much as he had complained about taking in the kid in the first place, she couldn’t help but notice how attached he had grown to the teen. Were all Mandalorians so easily swayed by children? She supposed she’d never know.

As they walked down the ramp, three small droids ran up to the ship. Omera smiled as she watched them scurry towards the Razor Crest. “Hello ther-” 

Omera’s greeting was quickly turned to a startled gasp and full body jolt as a blaster bolt hit the ground next to their feet, causing the little things to retract inside themselves, before quickly scrambling up and away.

“Sorry” Came a muttered condolence from the beskar clad warrior beside her. Omera glared at the Mandalorian as she clutched her chest, trying to get her breathing even. She was most certainly _not_ amused, unlike the drop trooper cackling with laughter behind her.

“Hey!” Omera jumped once more as an angry and unfamiliar voice called out. “You damage my droids, you pay for it!” 

A small woman walked out of an office on the side of the hangar they had landed in. Multiple gadgets and tools hung from her belt, leading Omera to assume this was the mechanic they were looking for.

“Just keep them away from my ship.” Responded Din, indicated the little droids hiding behind their owner.

“Hmm” The woman took a moment to regard the Mandalorian, her squinted gaze traveling over the motley crew behind him, and landing on the rather banged up ship. With another quick glance at the Mandalorian, she began to walk to where the majority of the damage had been done. “You sure about that?”

Pulling out a small scanner, she began to examen the spacecraft, banging and muttering all the way. In between the occasional exclamations of ‘oo’ and ‘ugh’, she called little tidbits over her shoulder at Din. “Got quita bita carbon scoring build’n up top. If I did’n know better, I’d think you were inna shoot out.”

The little crew exchanged uncomfortable glances, quickly looking away from each other as the lady looked back over her shoulder. She narrowed her eyes at them before going back to her inspection.

“Hmm, special tool for that. Oo. Gonna hafta rotate that... You gotta fuel leak!” She exclaimed, spinning back around to face Din. “I don’t know how you even landed this! That’s gonna set you back.”

Din sighed at her raised eyebrows, extracting his remaining credits from a pouch on his belt. “I’ve got 500 imperial credits. That cover it?” He asked as he dropped the credits into her waiting palm. 

“That’s all ya got? What’d’you guys think?” She turned to her three droids, who shrugged and chattered back in response. “Mm. Well, it’ll at least cover the hangar.” She muttered as she glanced around. Omera felt the beginnings of irritation well up inside of her. How much of what this lady said was wrong was actually true? How did they know she wasn’t just scamming them? Omera took a calming breath as she continued to watch the interaction. 

“I’ll get you your money.”

“Yeah? I’ve heard that before.”

“Just remember-”

“Yeah, no droids. I heard ya. Don’t gotta say it twice. That’ll cost extra y’know!” She yelled after Din’s retreating form as he walked back to the ship’s ramp. He continued walking, ignoring her.

Omera couldn’t stand by and watch this random woman soak up all of Din’s credits. She also knew that Din wouldn’t approve of any help from her or the others. So what did she do? She volunteered help from her and the others, of course!

“Wait!” Both Din and the lady looked up at her sudden exclamation. “You don’t need all of us to search for Kharon’s sister. I’ll stay behind. If we all chip in, we’ll have enough credits to cover the cost if the droids help. I’ll keep an eye on them, make sure they don’t do anything.”

“What? No.”

“Hold up. ‘We all’?”

Cara and Din spoke at the same time, before simultaneously turning to scowl at the other. At least, Omera assumed Din was scowling. The pointed look from his visor implied it.

Cara quickly spoke first. “We all? As in, all of us? I didn’t sign up for that.”

Omera glared at the drop trooper before responding. “I believe you signed up for it when you hopped on the ship. You didn’t have to come after all..”

“Wait, hold on, I agree with- I agree with-” 

Omera glanced at Din in concern. Every time he started to talk, a strange, guttural choking sound emitted from his helmet. Everyone, including the mechanic, looked at him in confusion and a little bit of worry as he coughed a few times and shook his head.

Tentatively, Winta darted out from behind Omera, the Child cooing in her arms. Walking up to the Mando, she put a hand on his arm. “Are you okay?”

Din looked down at the small girl and cleared his throat once more before he spoke. “Yeah, yeah, I’m good Adiik. Sorry... I guess the words ‘I agree with’ and ‘Cara’ just can’t seem to go together in the same sentence.”

A beat of silence passed before the concerned look on Cara’s face turned to one of anger, and Kharon’s worry changed to uncontrollable cackling. “Why, you little-”

Before she could say anything more, the strange mechanic lady burst into laughter. “That’s the- oh geez, I needed that.” Taking a minute to get her laughter under control, she turned back to face Din. “Oh, I like you. What’s your name, stranger?”

Din regarded her in silence for a moment before quietly responding. “Din.”

“Well Din, I’m Peli Motto, nice to meet you. I best be gett’n to work, so can I use my droids or not?”

Omera quickly shot Din a _look_, turning to Peli and responding herself. “Yes, you may. And we have the credits now.” She turned her gaze to meet Cara’s who sighed and rolled her eyes before retreating back into the ship, presumably to gather the credits. Satisfied, Omera turned back to Din.

“Don’t worry, I’ll keep a close eye on the droids and the kids. And no, you may not pay us back.”

“Oh, c’mon” groaned Cara as she walked back out of the ship. “Here.” She muttered, tossing a pouch to Din. Checking inside, Din turned and dispensed most of the credits into the waiting hands of the mechanic.

Victory.

Omera inwardly smiled to herself, pleased with the battle so easily won. Din had come a long way from the stoic Mandalorian who had first showed up to their little farm. She was pleased that he was so easily accepting help from his friends, even if there was a few arguments. Most of all, she was glad to see him trusting her. She knew he had some inexplicable dislike of droids, and his willingness to trust her with his ship meant a lot. She would certainly hold true to her word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mando’a Translations:
> 
> Adiik - Child aged 3-13


	19. Again?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Din, Cara, Kharon, and Vaar’ika set out to find Kharon’s family!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I DIDNT MISS IT! I didn’t miss it. I am updated on the right day, albeit a little late. Sorry ‘bout that, crap ton of homework. Also, slight freak out at my house when we thought my cat was getting mauled by coyotes. We found her asleep in the garage (thank the lord) so my sweet kitty is alright. We grew up together and she is the only one who I trust wholeheartedly, so idk what I’d do without her. We searched around outside to see if we could find whatever poor animal actually WAS attacked by the coyotes we scared off but didn’t find anything. At least we tried? Anyways, that’s a life update from me that you didn’t ask for. On to the story!

Din, Cara, and Kharon walked through the sandy town, Vaar’ika perched upon Din’s shoulder once more. Kharon walked slightly ahead of Din, leading the way, while Cara walked slightly behind, still sulking from his previous jab at her not being an agreeable person. 

_Well, her sulking means she’s not happy, cheerful, and trying to annoy me._ He thought to himself as they walked. _What an absolute shame._

Unfortunately for Din, her silence did not last long. Soon enough, the drop trooper perked up and began to chat. 

“So, are you very hot under all that armor? I mean, it can’t be comfortable in this heat. How does that not bother you?”

Din let out an annoyed huff. “Well, typically, I don’t think about it. If I’m not thinking about it, it usually doesn’t bother me.”

“Well, that’s a stupid tactic. What if someone brings whatever your ‘not thinking about’ up in casual conversation. Then you’ll be thinking about it, and it _will_ bother you.”

Taking a deep breath, Din gritted his teeth before he responded. “Yes. I see that now.” He spoke a little louder than intended, earning a slightly confused glance from Cara. That slowly spread into a bantha-fodder eating grin.

“I don’t think I’ve _ever_ been on such a _hot_ planet before. We’re practically boiling down here. What d’you think Kharon?”

Returning the smile, Kharon spun around and began to walk backwards so he could join the conversation. “I agree. It’s steaming down here... I’m sweating like a Gungan outta water!”

“I mean,” Cara heavily leaned on Din’s unoccupied shoulder as she continued. “This kriffing planet has _two suns_. I can’t believe how hot it is...” reaching down, Cara grabbed her flask of water and began to take a long drink, exaggerated gulping noises and all.

Din had had enough. Quickly spinning around to face the drop trooper, he smacked the underside of the flask. With a sudden new angle, the remaining water gushed out on Cara’s unsuspecting face. Coughing violently, the drenched woman flung the flask away from her, where a laughing Kharon caught it.

“Why- cough -you little- cough cough-”

“What was that? Sorry, I can’t understand you...” Din asked nonchalantly, as he continued walking. From his shoulder, Vaar’ika let out a rumbling purr. The little Loth-Cat on his shoulder was adding to his heat problem as well, but he wasn’t going to make her move. She needed rest to heal after all. Besides, although he’d never admit it, he liked the comfort of the little sentinel rising wherever he went. It was good to know he had someone watching his back other than the insolent drop trooper hacking behind him. “We almost there kid?”

Din ignored the muttered expletives, choosing instead to question Kharon. As much as it annoyed him, he was unbearably hot in his armor, and he wanted to escape the twin suns. He hoped it would be soon.

“Not far now. Here we’ll take the shortcut.” Kharon quickly turned down an alleyway, speeding their progression towards the more residential part of the town. Not that there were many residents. The vast majority of the people in the town were farmers come to trade their goods, or travelers.

“You mean we weren’t already going to take the shortcut?” Din wasn’t annoyed. He wasn’t. He was perfectly content with the idea that this kid was going to keep him in the sweltering heat longer than necessary.

“Well I mean... I didn’t really think about it?”

_Kriffing...didn’t think about it?! How could he not think about it?!_ Grumbling a few choice words in Mando’a, Din followed Kharon down another street and to a more run-down looking area. Once upon a time, it could have been a decent place to live. At least, as decent as you could get on a planet covered in sand and heated by two suns. That was probably before the war though. Now, doors were broken down, crates were busted, empty clotheslines were dragged through the dirt by the dry breeze, and unidentifiable scorch marks peppered the walls.

Din swallowed, trying not to let the ramshackle neighborhood drag back certain memories of his past. Now was certainly not the time for him to wallow in self-pity. In fact, no time was a good time to wallow in self-pity, which was why Din had attempted to bury the memories long ago. Not that that worked to well for him...

Shaking his head, he walked down the street with is three companions, ready for whatever came next. Preferably, some sort of air conditioning unit. 

*****

“How does this one work?”

“Does this droid have a name?”

“What type of droid is he?”

“How does this go down?”

Omera smiled as she watched Winta whir around the mechanic- Peli -asking whatever random question came to mind. As suspicious as she was about the mechanics motives at the beginning, she had to admit that she was good with the kids. She was patiently answering Winta’s never-ending stream of questions to the best of her abilities, and occasionally putting meanings behind the Child’s gibberish babbles as well. Very once in a while, Omera would hear something along the lines of, ‘oh, really?’ and ‘well, why didn’t you say so sooner?’ and ‘ah! Watch your language little one, I oughta tell that armored guy on you... ohh, you know I won’t, you’re just to cute, aren’t you?’. The Child would grin in response and babble some more as the woman continued her work. And now, back to Winta’s streamline of questions...

“Well, that’s just a wrench, you put it on a bolt and turn to tighten, pretty simple... Um, no, he doesn’t have a name... Well, they’re pit droids. You mean the landing gear? That’s just some simple hydraulics. Oil gets pumped into the cylinder, pushes the piston out here, and lowers the gear to the ground. Pneumatics do the same thing, but with air.”

“Why not use new-muh-ticks?”

“Pneumatics? Well,” Peli paused for a moment, as if trying to find a simpler way to explain it. Omera felt any previous resentment at the woman for trying to take all their credits drain away. She was glad she was being so patient with the kids. “Pneumatics use air instead of fluid, so they’re quicker, but also more jerky. They’re also typically less precise then hydraulics. And you hafta lubricate ‘em. With hydraulics, it’s slow but smooth, it’s more precise, and the fluid is a natural lubricant. There’re upsides to pneumatics, but most ship builders and mechanics would rather deal with hydraulics in most cases.”

Although Omera was sure Winta didn’t follow half of what was explained, she nodded anyway. “Can I name them?”

Peli turned towards the small girl, glancing down as the Child let out a small gurgle. “Uh.. name who?”

“Those pit droids. You said they didn’t have names.” She pointed earnestly behind her, where the little droids were working on the ship. One of them turned its head and chirruped at them, earning another chirp and a large grin from the Child in response.

“Uh, well. I guess I don’t see why not...”

“Yes! Let’s go think of some names!” Winta scooped up the Child, and raced over to where the little droids were working. Sitting down, she began to casually talk to them, although Omera knew she didn’t understand what they were saying.

Omera got up and walked over to where Peli was, rotating one of the parts she had grumbled about when they first arrived. “Thank you. For being so patient with her. She’s a good girl, but she’s curious. Sometimes she can be a bit much.”

Peli glanced behind her for a moment, and continued working. “Yeah, well. Kids are like that I s’pose.” She paused for a moment as she glanced over at the chattering girl. She was still talking to the little droids, but was currently playing a hand-clapping game she had taught the Child at the same time. “It’s.. sorta nice to have someone so carefree and genuinely curious ask’n questions. I don’t know that she understood much of what I said, but she listened to it all.”

Omera nodded in silence as she watched the woman work. She really wasn’t so bad. Omera glanced up at the sky, and took note of where the suns were. Assuming the planet rotated at roughly the same speed as Sorgan, it had only been a couple of hours since the rest of the group had left. She didn’t know how long it would take them, but she hoped they’d be back sooner than later. They could all hold their own, but that wouldn’t stop her from worrying if they took too long.

“Mind hand’n me that wrench right quick?” 

Omera snapped back to attention as Peli spoke, gesturing to a tray of tools balanced on a stack of crates behind her. Omera walked over and selected the wrench, holding it up. “This one?”

“Yes, that’s it. Thanks.”

Omera smiled and handed it over. “Anything else I can do to help?”

Peli contemplated her for a moment before glancing up at the shop above her. “Well... you mind scraping off that carbon scoring?” She held up a small, handheld carbon scraper.

Omera accepted the tool, and climbed up the ladder Peli had resting against the ship. She was happy to help, especially since she didn’t know when the rest of the crew would be back. She hoped the ship would be ready to go upon their return. After all, you never knew what sort of trouble they’d manage to get into.

  
*****

  
As they walked between the rundown houses, Din got an uneasy feeling. It was as though they were being watched. Vaar’ika’s stiff body and slightly twitching ears did nothing to calm his nerves. Obviously, she felt it too.

Cara and Kharon were chanting away beside him, seemingly oblivious to the unknown threat. Speaking of the kid... maybe the Force could be of some use right now.

“Hey, kid.”

Kharon and Cara both turned towards him, eyes narrowing at his brusque tone. To an outsider, it would seem completely normal of a Mandalorian to sound so terse, but to these two people... they had both seen, Cara more so than Kharon, Din slowly come out of his shell. Or rather, armor, so to speak. They seemed to have gotten pretty good at reading his mood by his tone of voice and posture, as they couldn’t really go by facial expressions with him. Din wasn’t quite sure what to think of it. One the one hand, he was a Mandalorian, and shouldn’t be so easily read by people. On the other, it was quite useful in times such as this.

“While we’re walking, you wanna do some more practice with those magic hands of yours?” He tried to be vague with his wording, as they didn’t know you could be watching or listening.

Kharon gave a small nod, before closing his eyes in concentration. Lifting up his hands as he walked, he paused, before grabbing each finger on his left hand one at a time. “This little womprat went to the marketplace. This little womprat stayed home. This little womprat ate garbage. And this little womprat hangs clothes. And they all yelled ‘Weeee, weee, wee!’ Waving their guns.”

A strangled choking sound emitted from Cara in the form of a poorly suppressed laugh, while Din slowly turned his head to regard the teen. Alright, so maybe he left him with limited options on what to do by saying ‘magic hands.’ After all, if he told him to practice with his magic hands and he didn’t do anything with his hands, that would seem pretty suspicious. But couldn’t he like, juggle knives or something? This was ridiculous!

However, Din couldn’t help but appreciate the hidden message, no matter how stupid the delivery. Assuming he had interpreted correctly, the teen had sensed four perpetrators, all armed with blasters. One was in the direction of the marketplace, one was hidden in a house, one was probably crouched behind the dumpster up ahead, and one was near the clothesline. 

Din nodded in Kharon’s direction, who was now openly grinning at him, silently telling him he understood. “You’re a di’kut, kid.”

The grin only grew wider. 

Before anyone could say anything else, a sudden shout split the air. Four figures jumped out from the surrounding area (all where Kharon had said they’d be) wielding blasters. The three companions whipped out their own weapons, and Vaar’ika crouched on Din’s shoulder with a hiss. 

A young girl, early teens if Din had to guess, with dark brown hair landed in front of the Mandalorian. She was wearing a black turtleneck jumpsuit and combat boots. Dark red armor with black accents adorned her figure, and she looked at him with hatred in her eyes.

“_Kyramud_” she spat.

Din paused for a moment as he felt a sudden burst of déjà vu, before relaxing his posture and slowly putting his pulse rifle on his back. Turning so that he was partially facing the girl, and partially facing Kharon, he spoke.

“Well, this seems familiar.”

The girl eyed him with slight confusion mixed with a lot of distrust, but her eyes strayed toward where he was looking. At the same time, Kharon turned away from his own assailant to see what Din was talking about.

“Kharon?”

“Alcestis?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is familiar... almost as if I’ve translated this word before...for a similar experience...
> 
> Mando’a Translations:
> 
> Kyramud - killer


	20. Family Matters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meeting Kharon’s family!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The second to last chapter is here! I doubt many people are still reading this, but I know at least a few of you are and seem to enjoy it! I’m so glad you guys have stuck with this story for so long, and I’m super excited to bring it to an end, no matter how sad it makes me! There IS a reference to my other series in here, but I doubt any of you are reading it. It’s a Din/Paz fic that starts out when they’re kids. If anyone is interested in it but doesn’t like Din/Paz then I’ll let you know that it won’t really get into any of that until later on in the story. It’s just little things here and there. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy the chapter! I haven’t finished the last one yet, I really want to be happy with it. I’m still planning on it being put up on Monday though. Thanks so much for reading!

With a quick motion, the girl gave a signal causing the rest of the attacking group to lower their weapons. Din’s group, of course, did the same. 

Taking another moment to regard their crew, the girl paused for a second as she looked between Kharon and Din. She seemed torn about something, as if she didn’t know what to do. Finally, she seemed to come to a decision. Turning to Kharon, she spoke.

“Okay, I don’t know _why_ your around someone like _him_, and I really wanna hate him, but he has a cat on his shoulder. That’s like, really kriff’n adorable.”

Kharon grinned and let out a laugh, striding forward to envelop the young girl in a hug while Din tried to decide whether he was offended or not. He looked at Vaar’ika, who gazed back before butting her small head against his visor. _Mrrrp_.

Nope. He didn’t care. It probably was kriffing adorable.

This assessment was only made more prominent at the ‘awww’s that came from the surrounding group. Now that he looked, he realized they were all various ages, but all still kids. Counting Alcestis, there were two girls and two boys.

“These are the ‘trusted friends’ you left your sister with? And I’m assuming that’s your sister.” Din gestured towards the younger teen, still wrapping an arm around Kharon, who he assumed was her brother. 

“Uh, yeah, sorry. This is my sister, Alcestis. Those are our friends. Small blonde one is Cath”

A small girl with blond hair rose a hand in greeting. She wore the same black turtleneck jumpsuit, but her armor was painted with blended white and purple swirls.

“And the two boys are Hesperos and Tariq, blue and green respectively.”

Two boys about the same height with dirty blonde hair had moved to stand next to each other, both in the signature black clothing and armor that the rest of the group plus Kharon wore. One had dark blue paint, and the other had dark green, both with a splattering of white that looked like stars. 

“We all- _ow_!” Kharon rubbed his side, where a bony elbow had previously been jabbed.

“Before you go telling them all about us,” She glared pointedly in Din’s direction. Apparently, she had gotten over the fact that he had an adorable cat on his shoulder. “You need to tell me why in the actual _kriff_ your with a _Mandalorian_.” 

She practically spat the word, and Din saw Kharon cringe. It seemed the teen had conveniently forgotten his previous hatred of Mandos, and the fact that his sister hadn’t had a chance to get over hers. 

“Okay, yeah, I should probably explain that....”

“Please do.” The other girl, Cath, walked over to stand behind Alcestis. Now that Din could get a good look at her, he realized she seemed a lot younger than the others. Cara seemed to have noticed as well. 

“Hold up, how old are you all? Shouldn’t you, y’know... be with your families?”

The two boys came and stood behind Kharon and Alcestis as well. Seeing all of them standing there with their outfits identical in all but color gave Din a sort of familial sense, one that he was very familiar with. He had spent the majority of his life with it. “They are.”

“What?” Cara turned to look at him in confusion, as the ragtag group of kids contemplated him with narrowed eyes.

“You asked if they should be with their families. They are.” Distant memories flitted in the back of his mind; twin purple and dark blue helmets, light blue pauldrons, and the laughter of children, none older than ten, joking and training together. Then came the same colorful armor, no longer worn by children, but joking and laughing all the same. Yes, Din knew that family took many shapes and forms. After all, as many Mando say: _Aliit ori’shya tal’din._ Family is more than blood.

Alcestis’s gaze turned thoughtful as she watched him, before she mirrored the words he had previously thought.

“Aliit ori’shya tal’din.” It was a statement, but Din heard the hidden inquiry. He nodded to her, and she gave a small lopsided smile back as they came to an abrupt silent understanding of each other. A beat of silence passed before she strode forward and held out her hand. “Alright. Well then, it’s nice to meet you Mando.”

“You as well.” He shook her hand and she stepped back, with a strange almost wistful look on her face. He followed her gaze before giving an audible huff. “I don’t suppose you’d want to pet my cat?”

She grinned. “Would I ever!”

Din leaned back against the wall of the small house, feeling his neck pop with the movement. He was currently sitting on a chair (read: crate) in one of the rundown houses with the rest of his and Kharon’s crews. After the initial excitement of petting Vaar’ika had passed, Alcestis and the others had led them to their ‘home base’. Cara was lounging over to his right, Kharon and Alcestis were sitting against the wall across from him, Cath was crouched on a hobbled together bookshelf, and Hesperos and Tariq were sitting side by side in a hammock in the far corner. Finally being out of the blazing twin suns was nice, but Din couldn’t wait to get back to the AC on his ship.

“Well I suppose we should answer your previous question.” Alcestis aimed her words at Cara, who nodded in response. “I’m fourteen.”

“Twelve” chirped Cath.

“I’m sixteen.” Hesperos added, swinging his legs a little and making the hammock rock.

“And I’m his twin.” Tariq elbowed his brother in the side, earning a smack upside the head.

“The annoying one.” Hesperos responded. Tucking his legs underneath himself in the hammock, he grabbed the pole his end was attached to for balance. In one quick motion, he swung the hammock violently forward, and caused his brother to fall backwards out of it before casually slipping back in.

“Ohoho, I am so doing that to you one of these days!” Cara cackled, ramming her elbow into his side. Din swatted her away with a nasty glare through his helmet’s visor. She cackled some more, probably already planning where the best place to casually hang a hammock in the village would be.

“Best part is, she’s not kidding. You should see the two of them on a daily basis. I’ve seen them have a full-blown wrestling match over a cup of spotchka before!” Kharon and Alcestis shared grins, while Cath giggled from her shelf.

“I thought Mandalorians were supposed to be more... I don’t know, refined? Formidable?” Tariq looked at Din with curiosity as he shoved his brother over and clambered back into the hammock next to him.

“Oh, forget about everything you ever knew about Mandos” Cara replied, waving her arms at Din. “This one is and absolute dork.”

“Utreekov.” Din muttered, earning very undignified snorts from all of the kids.

“Hold up, am I the only one who doesn’t know Mando’a here?” Cara stared around indignantly, seeming very annoyed that she didn’t understand what Din had called her.

“Don’t know Mando’a, hm? Then i wonder how you taught Winta those swear words...” Din gave her a pointed look, earning an annoyed grunt in response.

“Alright, fine. I only know a few words though, not much. Not whatever an ootreecough is.”

Cath giggled once more at the butchered pronunciation as she sat on the shelf, before her gaze was drawn to the Loth-Cat sprawled beside Din. To her obvious delight, Vaar’ika got up and stretched, before springing up onto the shelf beside the girl. Tentatively reaching out a hand, she gave a small squeal when Vaar’ika butted her head against it, accepting the offer to be pet. The other kids smiled at the sight, before turning back to their newcomers.

“So, how’d you meet Kharon?” Hesperos looked toward Din, curiosity lighting up his gaze. “I wanna know how the biggest Mando-hater out there somehow became good friends with one.”

The others all eagerly awaited the explanation as well. Din thought for a moment and began to explain. “Well, I was laying-low on some back-water world and somehow became friends with this di’kut and a local village” He gestured to Cara, who stuck her tongue out in response. Obviously, she knew what a di’kut was. “I went with some of the locals to get needed parts in town, and was, um.. ‘attacked’” He made finger quotes as he said the word ‘attacked’ causing Kharon to wrinkle his nose in annoyance. “By some random teen. He kept insulting me in Mando’a, so I pinned him.”

Din paused as he tried to remember the exact sequence of events. It hadn’t been particularly long since it had occurred, but it felt like forever. There had been quite a bit of excitement between now and his first meeting with the kid, and he was a little foggy on how it had gone.

“Then I think he said something along the lines of ‘you’re the one who fought off and entire spaceport’ and got really excited, and the next thing I knew I had for some reason agreed to train him. So, how did the biggest Mando-hater become friends with a Mandalorian? Your vod has mood swings, that’s how.”

This time Kharon was the one to stick his tongue out, while the others laughed. Minus Cara, who was currently staring at him in confusion.

“Hold up, you fought off a spaceport? Why did I not know about this?” There was a hint of hurt in her voice as she dramatically clutched her chest. “I thought we were friends!”

Din swiveled to stare at her in silence for a few long moments, before turning away again without saying anything, and earning an amused snort from Tariq.

“Yeah, well, maybe if you weren’t so annoying I’d tell you these things.”

Cara gasped, before grabbing a nearby pebble and throwing it at his helmet. It bounced off with a harmless _tink_ and landed on the ground beside him. Turning his head, Din looked back at Cara. “Did you say something?”

Cara grumbled under her breath, and ignored him in favor of questioning the kids once more. “So, how did you all become a group? What’s your, I don’t know, club backstory?”

They all glanced at each other, before seeming to silently agree on Kharon speaking for them. Shifting to a more comfortable position, he began.

“Well, we came together because we all had something in common. We were orphaned by the empire.” The kids all looked down, the two sets of siblings scooting closer to each other and Cath hugging Vaar’ika to her. Kharon looked up at Din. “You already know about Alcestis and I”

Cara opened her mouth, probably to say that no, she didn’t know, but was silenced by a look from Din.

“Well, we were on out own for a while after that. I had her stay home and do chores while I went out and I did little odd jobs, so we could afford to eat. We were making it work, but it got lonely. I think it was about... a year later?” He looked to the twins for confirmation, and they nodded their heads. “We came across Hesperos and Tariq. Their parents didn’t even do anything, just in the wrong place at the wrong time. 

“We joined forces and pooled our money, moved to this building since it had a bit more room. Got matching outfits and everything.” He gestured around the room at the other kids, all in their matching black clothing and personalized armor. “A few months after that we found Cath. Her mom was accused of being a spy for the rebellion, although there’s no way that was true. From what Cath tells us, she never did anything even remotely out of the ordinary. She would know, she and her mom went everywhere together, Cath even helped out at the mechanic shop her mom worked at.”

Cath nodded in agreement as she continued to pet Vaar’ika. Kharon looked around at his group and smiled, before turning back to Din.

“Been together ever since. Couldn’t ask for a better family.”

Glancing around at the group, Din couldn’t help but smile under his helmet. If it weren’t for the variation in hair color, they could have easily passed for blood relatives. But Din knew more than anyone that blood didn’t matter. Nor did species, on that note. Family was family, no matter who they were.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you didn’t quite get the reference mentioned earlier, it was the part where Din was thinking about the Mandalorian kids. In my other fic, he makes a close group of friends. Mera and Jahno are twins, and they have a purple and blue helmet respectively with matching white markings. Paz has light blue armor, as does Kina. They were his ‘family’ growing up.
> 
> Mando’a Translations:
> 
> Utreekov - fool, idiot 
> 
> Di’kut - Idiot
> 
> Vod - brother


	21. Home Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With their brief mission come to an end, the crew bid their new friends goodbye and go home at last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, a little late, I know. I had a lot of homework I had to get done, but I was still planning on having it up on time. Unfortunately, my iPad decided to crash while I was writing, and I had to rewrite a little bit. It wasn’t too much, and I think I have it down again nearly word for word as it was originally, so it should be fine! Anyway, that mixed with my internal helmet debate led to a bit of a stall in writing. 
> 
> I’ve had so much fun with this series, and want y’all to know you are the best readers I could have asked for. I was so terrified to post the first chapter, which was meant to be a one-shot, but I got so much amazing feedback that it turned into a 21 chapter story! You guys are truly motivating, and seeing your comments and kudos have gotten me through more than a few tough times. I can’t thank you enough! 
> 
> I’m super sorry if this doesn’t quite end how you hoped. Especially with the whole helmet thing, I had a HUGE internal debate about what the kriff to do with that... I really do hope you enjoy though, and thanks once again for reading. I really do appreciate it. 💜

Din followed the ragtag group of kids as they ran between buildings, back to the hangar they had left his ship. The teens plus Cath had all insisted that he and Cara wait for nighttime to go back, as it was cooler than in the day. He had to admit, the offer to stay and chat until the sun had gone down appealed to him, and he and Cara had happily agreed. Besides, Vaar’ika had fallen asleep on Cath’s lap. He wasn’t going to be the jerk to make her move.

As they ran through the darkness, Vaar’ika streaking alongside (her wounds didn’t seem to be bothering her anymore), Din couldn’t help but notice how much cooler it was. It was still hot, but it was bearable. It made him all the more glad that he had accepted the offer, and waited for the suns to set. 

“We’re almost there!” Kharon shouted back. He was upfront, leading the way with Alcestis. All of the kids seemed to know their way around pretty well in the dark. Din wondered if a lot of people on this planet traveled at night to escape the suns. It would make sense.

As the hangar entrance came into view in the distance, Tariq grinned. “Last one there is a dirty womprat!” 

The kids all squealed and raced ahead. Din and Cara exchanged a quick glance before sprinting after them. Even with his armor, Din still managed to be incredibly swift and agile. He had had to be, as a Mandalorian. It was that, or death. Now though, the heat of the planet was getting to him, and he could feel himself beginning to slow. Unwilling to lose to Cara, he made himself speed up.

Up ahead, Vaar’ika had reached the entrance. Kharon and his long legs were close behind her, and Cath, surprisingly enough, was right behind him. Alcestis reached them next, then Hesperos and Tariq. They all turned to watch the final dash between Cara and Din and cheer on their favorite, curious as to who would be the dirty womprat. 

Having started after the rest of their small group, they were still a quite few yards away. Din started to pull ahead, so Cara promptly stuck out her foot. Awkwardly jumping over to avoid tripping (and wouldn’t that be embarrassing) Din narrowed his eyes beneath his helmet. So that’s how it was going to be?

With a couple yards left, Din spun and jumped in front of a startled Cara, quickly grabbing her and using her forward momentum to toss her over his shoulder. She landed on her back with an audible _g_, and Din dodged around her to victory. Or at least, that’s what was supposed to happen.

Cara lunged forward and grabbed his foot, causing him to fall forward as well. This was quickly proceeded by a mad scramble to get to the entrance first, which involved much tripping, dragging down, and even a full body tackle from Cara, all while the group of kids whooped and hollered from the finish line.

Shoving Cara down one last time, Din managed to roll across the entry arch before she could properly react. Standing up, he brushed off some sand with a casual monotone “I win, you dirty womprat.” And strode past Omera and the mechanic on his way inside.

Omera and the mechanic.

Turning around, Din did a slight double take. Omera and Motto were both standing in the group of kids, which now included Winta and the Child. They must have come out when they heard the teens yelling. That’s... embarrassing...

“So, how’s my ship coming along?” 

Omera just grinned at him as Motto’s eyes danced in delight. Cara glared daggers at him from over their heads.

“Well, I’m just gonna...go..check on my ship.”

Turning, he quickly strode off. Peli followed him, saying something about showing him what all had been done.

  
*****

  
Now _that_ was the adorably dorky, socially impaired, incredibly kind, easily embarrassed Mandalorian she had fallen in love with. Omera couldn’t help but give a soft smile to the Mandalorian’s retreating form before turning back to the gaggle of children he had come with. She took a moment to regard them all, before turning to a young girl with brown hair and black and red armor.

“I suppose you’re the wonderful sister we’ve been hearing about?”

“I suppose I am. Alcestis, nice to meet you ma’am.” She held out her hand, and Omera grinned and shook it. It was nice to see the siblings reunited, although she was curious about the other children.

“Omera. And this is my daughter Winta.” Winta shyly smiled up at the group of older kids, holding the Child in her arms. The Child waved its little fingers at the girl, Alcestis, and she smiled in return.

“And who is this little guy?” Alcestis crouched in front of Winta and wiggled her fingers back. The Child burbled happily at her.

“I guess... he doesn’t really have a name.” Responded Winta, wrinkling her nose as if she had just come to the realization. “Well, he sorta does. Din calls him ‘Ad’ika’.”

Alcestis’s head shot up, and she looked back at the others. All of the older children shared large grins, before turning back to the now confused adults and Winta.

“You..you know what that means, right?” Tariq asked as Cath giggled in the background. They were all obviously delighted by the new information, and waited expectantly for Omera’s answer. Cara narrowed her eyes in suspicion, but listened intently all the same.

“Well,” Omera thought back to a conversation she had had with Din, seeming so long ago. “I believe he told me once that it meant ‘Little One’. Is that not correct?”

Tariq cackled as Kharon tried to muffle his smile with his hand. It was Hesperos who finally responded. “Yes, that is correct. But the meaning goes deeper than that. It’s also Mando’a for ‘son’ or ‘daughter’. Your Mando obviously has quite the soft spot for the kid.”

Omera and Cara exchanged slightly shocked glances, although she couldn’t say she was completely surprised. It was obvious that he thought of the Child as his kid, but she never thought he would admit it out loud. She supposed, in a way, she was wrong about that. He had in fact been admitting it out loud, just in a way that only he and the Child (and apparently Kharon) could understand.

Still making eye contact, Omera and Cara grinned. Both for vastly different reasons, of course. Omera was delighted that the sweet Mandalorian was openly showing his affection to his kid, and was overjoyed at how far he’d come since they’d met. Cara, she knew, was thinking of all the different ways she could tease the Mandalorian. He’d never catch a break now...

  
*****

  
Din ignored the small amused looks and subtle verbal jabs from Motto as he checked out his ship, making sure nothing had been tampered with. He would rather she not try to bring it up in casual conversation. In fact, he’d rather she pretend it never happened lie he was attempting to do now. But alas, it was not to be, as she hit him with another hidden joke.

“I don’t know why your so wrapped up with double-check’n that ship, it’s not like me an’ my droids we’re _tripping over each other_ to mess it up more than it already was.” She turned her head an muttered off to the side, although Din caught it anyway. “As if we coulda messed it up more.” 

Slightly annoyed by the reference to him and Cara tripping each other, he turned back to his work. He was perfectly content ignoring anything and everything she said if he had to. But then again, that never seems to work well for him when he tries it with Cara...

Din glanced up from his inspection when Winta sprinted in, followed by everyone else from both parties. Who were all wearing suspiciously delighted grins. Winta immediately ran straight over to the Din.

“How much longer are we here? Can we play with Gadget?”

The Child grinned up at him, large ears wobbling up and down as he burbled. Din was very confused to say the least.

“Who’s Gadget?”

Winta grinned before pointing over to the three pit droids, currently eyeing Din from behind some crates. As soon as he spotted them, they each did a little jump and retracted into their head pieces. Winta gave a small frown at the behavior.

“Huh. They were really playful earlier.” Turning back to Din, she gave another grin. “Can we, pleaaaaaase? The middle one is Gadget, and the two others are Rusty and Silver!”

Din helplessly looked between the wide-eyed girl and Omera. On the one hand, _droids. Dangerous, possibly hostile, unpredictable, little rust buckets with potentially hidden motives._ On the other hand, he didn’t think Omera would be very happy if he said no. Besides, the little pit droids looked so helplessly harmless, nothing like...like...

Anyway, they looked harmless enough. His reflexes were quick enough to stop them if they tried anything. Letting out an exasperated sigh, he consented. “Fine.”

If it came out a little more...strangled sounding then he intended, he was sure no one noticed through his helmet’s modulator. 

Unless Cara’s raised eyebrow and matching frown, or Omera’s slightly bemused and a little worried look were in any way associated with it. Din quickly looked away, hoping they’d forget about it. No reason to bring up past troubles right now. Or _any_ time, for that matter...

“Look out!”

Din was saved from his awkward thought process by a sudden shout, over from the cluster of children. Hesperos and Tariq both dived out of the way, just in time to avoid being hit by a small but rather fast moving ball, quickly followed by a furry streak of fluff and teeth.

“Uh, sorry?” Kharon gave a sheepish grin as the two glared at him, Alcestis and Cath hiding giggles in their hands. “I guess I wasn’t paying attention to my surroundings...”

It didn’t take much for Din to figure out what was going on. He had seen Kharon playing with Vaar’ika enough times to put the pieces together, and quickly hid a sudden laugh with a fake cough as he busied himself once more with his ship inspection. He could just imagine the kid getting carried away as he flung the ball around with the Force, occasionally hitting some poor soul as he lost focus. 

Actually, he didn’t have to imagine. He’d been on the receiving end of that Force-flung ball on _multiple_ occasions, none of which he liked to recall. Kriffing teens.

Everyone (Din our of the corner of his visor) watched as Vaar’ika chased after the ball, right over to where Winta, the Child, and the droids were playing. The droids seemed to be taking turns hiding in their shells and randomly popping up, while Winta and the Child tried to guess which one would come up next. Vaar’ika was racing by, just in time for the droid in front of her to suddenly pop out of its shell.

Letting out an ear-splitting shriek, the young Loth-Cat leaped straight up in the air. Twisting mid jump, she landed with her fur standing on end and streaked back towards the group of kids with a loud yowl. Veering off to the side, she promptly flung her small body onto Din’s right shoulder, curling around his head to sit on his left, hissing and spitting all the way.

Din barely spared her a glance, and a few moments of silence went by, in which everyone stared at the small cat as she flicked her ear and calmly licked her ruffled fur. The only sign of her previous discomfort was her poofy tail, the tip of which was occasionally flicking back and forth in irritation as it draped over Din’s shoulder. 

Hesperos was the one to finally break the silence, awkwardly clearing his throat before he spoke. “So, are we just not gonna ackn-”

A sudden glare from both Vaar’ika and Din quickly shut him up. However, as they went back to their separate tasks it seemed to have had a completely opposite effect on Cara. Grinning, she turned to the children.

“Kids, let this be a lesson to you on what Mandalorians and Loth-Cats have in common. Number one, if they make a mistake you are expected to act as though nothing ever happened on pain of death.”

Din gave a slightly audible huff, but couldn’t find it in himself to disagree. It was only common courtesy for one to do so after all. A one time mistake from a Mando only meant deadlier accuracy later on, as Din knew better than anyone. Reflecting on his time with Vaar’ika, he could only assume it was the same for cats.

“Well, anyway.” Din listened over his shoulder as Omera drew the attention away from the Mandalorian and his cat. “I don’t believe I got the rest of your names.”

Din gave the slightest of smiles hidden behind his helmet as Omera conversed with the kids, them telling her all about themselves and the adventures they’d gotten into together. Apparently, they quite liked playing pranks on known imperial sympathizers. Din fleetingly wondered how any of them had lived so long.

Finally, he stepped back from the ship. He had to begrudgingly admit to himself that a rather well-done job had been performed with the repairs. Not that he would admit it out-loud. In fact, when he turned around to see Motto’s satisfied smirk, he merely gave her a brief nod of mild acceptance. He got a small bit of sadistic pleasure at seeing her smirk fade to an annoyed scowl. Anyway, time to load up.

And go back to the village.

Without the kid. 

You know, now that he thought about it... he hadn’t triple-checked the fuel leak yet. Omera must have caught the gist of his thoughts, because she turned around and gave him a sad smile.

“All ready to go?” 

Din hesitated for the briefest of moments before nodding his head. He was most certainly not attached to that annoyingly happy kid with his stupid mood swings and kriffing Force games. Not in the slightest.

Aw, kriff.

Din watched in his signature Mandalorian silence as the gaggle of children bade Winta, the Child, Omera, (who vehemently urged them all to come visit if the opportunity arose) and finally Cara goodbye. They each took turns making their way over to Din as well, giving their farewells. 

Alcestis paused for a moment when she reached him, looking over at Kharon. She stuck out her hand, and Din shook it. “Thanks for taking care of my brother.” Her gaze drifted over to where Omera was standing with Winta and the Child, preparing them for the flight back. She grinned, as she shook Din’s hand a little harder than necessary. “Don’t lose her!” She said in a whispered sing-song voice, before bounding back to the other kids.

Din was confused to say the least. Which her? Winta was a child, and therefore easy to lose he supposed, but what was her point behind the warning? He supposed the Child could work for the warning as well, he didn’t technically know its gender. Calling it a girl didn’t quite seem right though... whatever. It was probably just a typical teen prank.

Finally, Kharon strode away from the group to approach Din. Placing his hands behind his heads, he spoke with a heavily exaggerated sorrow.

“Well Din, I don’t know how you’re gonna manage without me.” 

Din gave a small disdainful huff as he eyed the teen through his helmet’s visor. “Yeah, I think I’ll manage.”

Kharon gasped, bringing his hands to his chest in a feigned indignant gesture. “_What?!_ I beg your pardon, when I found you you were naught but a poor soul wandering a small town in search of your mission in life!”

“That’s not quite how I remember it.”

“Well you must be misremembering in your old age!”

Din cocked his head to the side, belatedly noting that it probably looked ridiculous with the small cat mirroring the movement on his shoulder. He regarded the kid for a few moments before responding.

“I’m in my early thirties.”

Kharon’s eyes widened into a horrified expression as he quickly recoiled. “Already?!”

“Yeah, no, I don’t have time for this kid. See you around.” In reality, Din wasn’t sure he trusted himself to leave if he spent anymore time with the quirky teen. He was about to turn to head up the ramp when he paused at a sight that had always filled him with dread.

The gleam of mischief in the teenager’s eyes.

Before he could even think what it could be about, the kid stepped forward and engulfed the Mandalorian in a hug, felt only slightly through his layers of armor. Din immediately stiffened, his brain shooting off signals of NODANGERBADSTOPKILLIT but also the slightest amount of... endearment?

For a few shocked moments, Din’s helmet swung around in a confused manner as his brain yelled at him to find the threat. But the only thing his eyes met were the grinning faces of his companions as they watched the non-sociable warrior struggle. 

His mind finally catching up, he dimly registered the hug enough to awkwardly pat the kids shoulder as Vaar’ika purred and nuzzled his hair. A slightly muffled voice came from Kharon as he continued the embrace, which Din was _fairly_ certain had exceeded the amount of time that would be considered normal.

“You’re the best non-Jedi Master I could have asked for.” Finally pulling away, Kharon averted his gaze, looking up, down, _anywhere_ except Din. That didn’t stop him from noting the slightly glassy look to the kid’s eyes.

Noting Cara’s ‘lesson number one of how Mandalorians and Loth-Cats are alike’ that he was 98% sure she had come up with on the spot, (knowing her there was that slight chance of a legitimate list lying around) he decided to ignore it. 

After all, he couldn’t truthfully deny the same glassy sheen would be seen in his eyes if his helmet were off.

Kharon quickly blinked away any lingering wetness, before giving a signature grin. The two stepped back and regarded each other for a moment in silence, before Din broke the silence with a respectful nod.

“Ret’urcye mhi.”

Kharon smiled once more, repeating the Mandalorian phrase. “Ret’urcye mhi.”

  
*****

  
Din sat in the pilot’s seat in the cockpit of his ship, making sure everything was stable after their jump to hyperspace. Knowing they had several parsecs to go before their destination was reached, he leaned back, reaching over to scratch Vaar’ika behind her overly large ears as she snoozed in the passenger’s seat. 

A sound from behind had him looking over his shoulder to see Cara and Omera clambering up the ladder. He spun around in his chair to face them as they both took the empty seats in the next row.

“The kids?”

Omera responded with a small smile. “Out like little lights, curled up together in the cubby.”

Din gave a small nod, but couldn’t help but smile behind his helmet. The two really had hit it off together in the beginning, and it came as no surprise that they were still just as close. Cara was the one to break the silence, speaking up from her seat behind Vaar’ika.

“I’m gonna miss the kid. He was fun to have around.” She pondered something in silence for a moment, before adding “Well, Winta’s gonna be a teen before we know it, she’ll be quite interesting as a rebellious teena-”

“_No!_”

Cara merely raised her eyebrows at the twin outbursts from Omera and Din alike, and grinned as Din looked away from Omera’s slightly curious gaze in embarrassment. Giving a small huff of laughter, she thankfully chose to ignore the small interaction between the two, instead focusing on the outburst itself. “Well alrighty then, touchy subject.”

Din casually brought his gaze back to the two, only to freeze at the sight of their faces; concern mingled with slight apprehension and uncertainty.

After gazing between the two for a few silent moments, Din forced himself to relax again and decided to speak. “...What?”

The two women shared a glance, as if uncertain who was going to talk, and what was to be said. After a short-lived battle of facial expressions, Cara lifted her eyebrows impossibly high and widened her eyes, tilting her chin towards Din before another meaningful look at Omera. Din had absolutely no clue what it meant, but Omera must have as she scrunched up her nose (much like Winta, he realized) and sighed.

Turning towards Din, she cleared her throat a little awkwardly, before seemingly deciding to get whatever it was over with. “Um, we just wanted to know...

Why do you hate droids so much?”

Din immediately froze again, muscles bunching up and breath catching in his throat. Dozens of thoughts raced through his head, the most prominent varying from ‘crap, they remembered’ to ‘nonononononono’ to ‘why now, why’d they have to ask?’

Managing to tune back in to the real world, Din caught the two exchanging slightly alarmed glances and realized he’d probably been silent longer than he intended. He attempted to force himself to relax again, but after a few moments acknowledged that it was a loosing battle. Besides he needed to... what did he need to do again? Oh, right, say something.

“Why?” The answer was a little more...clipped than he had intended, and if he could unfreeze his body he would have cringed beneath his helmet. Oh well.

Omera flinched a little, but quickly regained her composure. Stealing herself, she looked at Din once more. “You seem to have a bit of a problem with being around droids, and it’s obvious it goes deeper than general dislike. We’re worried about you Din.”

Their earnest faces and genuine concern slowly helped his body to let itself relax, even if it was only partially. As much as he did not want to have this conversation, he didn’t see a way around it. Besides, he supposed that if he was going to flip out at every droid he saw, they at least deserved an explanation of why. He took as deep a breath as his body allowed, which came out as an almost impossible to see rise and fall of his chest piece. Better than nothing.

“What do you want to know?”

Omera thought for a moment before responding. “Just...why I guess. What happened to- to make you hate droids so much?”

Din paused for a moment, trying to figure out the best way to respond. Finally, he settled on the simplest answer.

“I was a Foundling.” He stated, as if it explained everything. Which, to him, it did.

The two women tilted their heads in confusion before Cara’s eyes suddenly widened in a slight realization. Her slightly horrified face only served to make Omera more worried, and she anxiously glanced back at Din, who decided he’d better explain.

“When I had just turned eight... separatists attacked my village. Full-on frontal assault, consisted of B2 Super Battle Droids and Vulture Droids. I was out with my parents at the time the attack began.”

Cara lowered her eyes in understanding as Omera’s face filled with shock and horror. He took another shallow breath before continuing. “My parents grabbed me and tried to rush back to our home, we had a small bomb shelter. They ran with me, and all around us my village was being massacred by droids, showing no mercy. We made it to the shelter, and they lowered me in. A battle droid had spotted us though. They-”

The word was cut off when his voice cracked with a slight choked sound, and he looked away. “They intended to lead it away. They closed the doors, but as they ran a grenade hit. It- it was close range, it was over quickly.” His voiced dropped to barely above a whisper for a moment as he looked down, recalling the blast that shook the shelter he had sat in. “They wouldn’t have been in any pain.”

Omera let out a choked sound, and Din couldn’t bring himself to look up. He didn’t want to know what their faces looked like just then. He didn’t think he could handle it. “The droid came to the shelter I was hidden in, swung the doors open. I thought it would be the last thing I ever saw. But before it could finish it, it was completely taken down. An armored man came and helped me out of the shelter; everywhere I looked, Mandalorians descended in jet packs, taking out all the droids.”

Din finally lifted his head, meeting Omera and Cara’s gazes. Cara looked like she might be sick, and Omera had silent tears trekking down her cheeks. “I owe my life to the Mandalorians. They took me in, raised me in the Fighting Corps. I was treated as one of their own.”

Din looked away again, and finally managed to make himself take a deeper, calming breath. He was a Mandalorian. This shouldn’t effect him as much as it did, not since he swore to the Creed and dawned his helmet in front of another person for the last time. He was stronger than that.

By the time the other two had recovered, he was for the most part back in a relatively Mandalorian mind set. 

Omera glanced up at him after rubbing her eyes, and whispered “I’m so sorry.”

Din gave a small shake of his head, and responded. “This is the Way.”

Cara frowned, and then straightened. “Yeah, well, maybe it was when you were with the Mandalorians. You’re with us now Din, and like it or not, we share our feelings here. Believe it or not, we’ve all somehow grown fond of you, and we all want to see what’s best for you. And I assure you, what’s best is not suppressing your feelings like a kriffing... I don’t know, a kriffing Mandalorian!”

Din glanced up at her and opened his mouth to say something right as Cara snapped 

“I heard it!”

It was ridiculous enough to get a huff of a laugh from both him and Omera, who seemed like she was doing much better than her previous teary state. He had to admit, he felt _very_ bad for making her of all people cry. Even if she _had_ literally asked for it. 

Omera smiled and looked over at Din as well. “She’s right you know. We all care for you, the whole village. We’re grateful for what you’ve done, and we’re thankful you’ve stayed. We all love you.”

Din wasn’t sure if it was his own wistfulness playing tricks on him, or if it was real, but he could have sworn there was a hint of a hidden message in that last statement... 

Din looked around at his three companions. Omera, in all her beautiful and loving glory, who he thought he’d do almost anything for. Cara, with all her ridiculous banter and exasperating instigations, but who still made it clear that she cared deeply for her two closest friends. And finally, Vaar’ika, who had somehow slipped into his lap at some point without his noticing.

He absentmindedly scratched the cat behind the ears once more, earning a rumbling purr in response. He smiled down at the creature, before turning his gaze upwards. Yes, the Mandalorians had taken him in, and he had found his aliit there. But these people were his new aliit. Omera and Cara and Winta and Kharon, and Vaar’ika; and he wouldn’t give them up for anything.

  
*****

  
Din walked through the village, Winta on his shoulders and the Child holding onto his ankle as Vaar’ika weaved around his legs. He probably made a ridiculous sight to the villagers welcoming him and his stowaway crew home.   
  
The villagers had insisted that they be the ones to bring his supplies from his ship to his hut, saying that he and the others needed a break. Honestly, he couldn’t disagree with that assessment more. They hadn’t done much on the trip at all, but he had no luck trying to tell a hyped up Caben and Stoke that. 

Caben in particular was excited, running up to Din as if he were going to embrace him, before stopping short at his visored glare and heading to hug a laughing Omera instead. Now, he was happily dragging a crate of weapons with Stoke as they made their way to his hut.

The other village children ran up, and Winta immediately asked to be let down. As soon as her little feet had touched the ground, she scooped the Child up and was off in a flash, most likely to tell of her exciting adventure. Din stopped and watched, Omera smiling at the group of kids as she stopped next to him. 

As the villagers drifted off to do chores, Cara left to find spotchka, and the children and Vaar’ika ran off to play, Din abruptly realized he and Omera were alone. His mind drifted back to the hangar on Tatooine, and Alcestis’s whispered message...

Din felt his heart practically jump to his throat as the sudden realization of the meaning dawned on him. Not ‘don’t lose Winta’ or ‘don’t lose the Child.’ It was ‘don’t lose _Omera_.’

Din’s head snapped around to look at the person in question, who merely raised her eyebrows in a bemused response. Din cringed at himself, before trying to pull himself together. “Do you- uh. Do you want to go patrol with me?”

Omera’s eyes rose further up her forehead, but she slowly nodded in response. “Okay...”

“Uh, right.” Din quickly turned and strode off towards the woods before realizing that he had to, in fact, wait for Omera instead of running from her. Sheepishly, he waited for her to catch up before continuing on at a slower pace. 

Leading her through the trees and only partially doing an actual patrol, they finally made it to the clearing where he and Kharon had frequently come to train. Din awkwardly slid down with his back to a tree trunk, Omera sliding down next to him. 

Omera seemed to realize that he needed some time to think through whatever spur of the moment thing had caused him to bring her out here, and so they waited awhile in companionable silence. Finally, Omera broke it with a slightly timid question. 

“If I may ask...” Din have a nod of his head, and she cautiously continued. “Do you remember when.. back when you sort of just.. shut down? Reverted back to Mando ways, I think is how Cara put it.”

Din nodded in response, and she took it as a sign to continue. “Did that have anything to do with, well, your past? Your becoming a Foundling?”

Din sighed, and nodded his head before quietly responding. “Yes. That would have been the yearly...anniversary of my village being destroyed. For the past nearly thirty years I’ve always gone off to be alone for the day, so nobody has to see me before I can get my emotions in check. I guess this year all the excitement caused me to forget.”

Omera nodded, and seemed to hesitate for the briefest of moments before gently clasping his nearest gloved hand in her own. “Well, you know I’m here for you, right? You don’t have to go through it alone anymore, not if you don’t want to.”

Din swallowed thickly and nodded. Yes, he realized that now. He may not have fully comprehended it before, but he did now. And he was glad. 

Taking a deep breath to steady his nerves, Din decided to initiate what he had dragged her out here for in the first place. “Um, Omera...?”

She glanced up at him, and his throat immediately dried of any words that may have formed. He had no clue what to say. 

“I, uh, well- I, Ilikeyou.” He finally blurted out, before turning his face away and cringing behind his helmet. Thank Force for his helmet, he’d die in more ways than one without it.

Omera gave a wry smile before responding. “I like you too.”

“No, but- well, yes, but I mean, like...”

“Din, May I ask you a question?”

Din slowly turned to face her again, dimly registering that they were still holding hands. He gave a small, embarrassed nod, earning a broad smile in return.

“Have you ever asked someone out before?” 

Din’s face immediately heated up as he shook his head no. Omera gave a small laugh, though she didn’t seem surprised. 

“Well, let me show you how it’s done.” Standing, Omera pulled Din up as well before facing him and grasping both his hands in her own. “Din, you are incredibly sweet and kind behind all that armor, and are the most adorably dorky person I have possibly ever met. I love you, and think we should go out to get food in town sometime.”

Din sat there for a few moments as his shocked brain processed the words; and then jerked back in surprise while scrambling for a response. “Um, wait, uh- yes? I mean, me too. Er- ugh.” Din could feel his face burning up underneath his beskar helmet. He was _not_ trained for this.

Wait, his helmet. He hadn’t thought about his helmet when he did this, he had just gone on impulse. He had sworn a Creed to the Mandalorians, that he would never remove in in front of another living soul. Not a single person had seen his face since he had sworn the Creed when he was a child. It wasn’t something he could simply throw out the window. What the heck was he supposed to do about his helmet!?

“Wait, but... there’s one problem.”

Omera tilted her head at him. “Oh?”

“Um, my..” he helplessly gestured to his helmet with one hand before returning it to Omera’s open palm. Omera gave a small smile in response as she squeezed his hands in hers.

“I won’t rush you to do anything you’re not ready for. Even if you are never ready for it, I am glad to be here just for you. Take your time Din.” Her soft smile turned to a mischievous grin. “Even if there is nothing more that I want than to kiss you right now, I can wait.”

Din startled for a moment, before a more Mandalorian approach popped into his head. “I know it’s not the same, but.. Mandalorian’s do a- a Keldabe Kiss. With our foreheads.”

Great, now that he said it aloud, it seemed kind of lame. But Omera smiled up at him. “Alright.”

A little timidly, Din reached out and gently pulled her into a tight embrace, her body flush with his own. He carefully lowered his head, until his forehead rested upon her own. It may not be the same to outsiders, but to a Mandalorian it is like giving your all to someone. Din couldn’t remember the last time he was in such close proximity to someone...not counting negative interactions such as fighting. Even Kharon’s hug earlier had been loose and friendly.

This was on a deeply intimate level that Din didn’t think he had ever experienced before. Even through his helmet he could smell her slightly woody scent, mixed with the slight tang of the krill ponds. He could feel her chest rising and falling in time with his own breathing, and the gentle pulse of her heart through his armor. To Din, it was everything. To Din, she was everything. 

The Mandalorians had raised him, but with Omera? He thinks he finally found his home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I’m getting a little nostalgic writing this, and I really will miss it...so if anyone has any, idk, ideas that they had wanted to see but didn’t and are very upset about it, I could be...persuaded...to write a few one-shots in this universe. Just please no smut, I won’t do anything like that. As you have seen, the closest I’ve even gotten to that is a kriffing Keldabe Kiss. Anyway, thank you all so much for reading! 
> 
> Ret’urcye mhi!
> 
> Mando’a Translations:
> 
> Ret’urcye mhi - maybe we’ll meet again
> 
> Aliit - family
> 
> Beskar - Mandalorian armor

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to anyone who made it this far! Constructive criticism is much appreciated! I don’t know if my writing is any good or not, but i’d Love to hear other’s opinions! Also, I really have no idea how to use this website...
> 
> Also, for the Mando’a translations:
> 
> Skanah - much hated thing or person
> 
> An jahaala ad’ika - All healthy little one


End file.
